


When Two Worlds Collide

by Lights321



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Plug, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Butt Plugs, Character Death, Chastity Device, Chastity Device(s), Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Fighting Kink, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Attitudes, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Underage - Freeform, Victorian Attitudes, social inequality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lights321/pseuds/Lights321
Summary: On one end of the world, resides the "civilized" society, one that believes it has risen above their baser instincts and seeks to control what makes them human. On the other lives a society that embraces the animalistic, and believes that the strong should take whatever they wish.What happens when these two opposite ideologies meet in Gotham?





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This work of fiction contains some real-life triggering topics regarding sexuality and certain practices in the world that are still occurring. If you are easily squicked out by that or confused by the following fictional societal dynamics, please refer to the tags listed above and notes at the bottom to gain an overall understanding. I do not condone anything written in this work of fiction, and any readers may proceed further at their own risk.

When Bane had resided within the Pit, his introduction to matters such as intercourse were taught to him by the omega prisoners and their doting alphas that lived there alongside himself. It wasn’t something that was private or hidden. The sight of two people entangled in sex was something that occurred so often that Bane scarcely noticed it, only recalling annoyance at the sounds that emerged while he was trying to sleep or read.

But the sight of sex began to interest Bane when he was a little older, and he occasionally caught an eyeful of previously covered areas of the frame that were normally covered. Bane had been too young to understand or to even feel arousal, but he recalled feeling _something_ as he watched alphas bend their omegas over cots. When he was old enough to understand full sentences, one of his caretakers, a prisoner by the name of Majd, decided that it was time for Bane to learn. 

Bane distinctly remembered the conversation.

“My child. Everything in this world has a place and a rank.” Majd spoke, rubbing the young boy’s back. Bane glanced back-and-forth nervously at Ehsan, Majd’s chosen alpha, a truly terrifying man with many scars littering his gigantic frame. Majd batted at the alpha, and Ehsan lumbered away. Majd laughed as he squeezed Bane harder against his chest.

“Nevermind him, _habibi_. He’s hovering. If I did not like him anymore, he would have to go back to fighting other alphas for a fuck, or bribing omegas with whatever valuables he can trade or steal.”

Bane looked up at Majd’s face. “He’s much stronger than you Majd. How do you live?”

“Because if I were gone, Ehsan would have to go back to living like an animal. An omega is an alpha’s second, smarter half, Bane. If we lived in a place where there were more omegas perhaps he would not be so worried. But as it is, I’m all he has.” 

Bane was small, a child. Not yet a threat to the many aggressive, even unstable alphas that prowled the limited space within the Pit, ready to tear each other apart at a moments notice. He studied the omegas that walked through the prison, safely assured of the power they held over their chosen alpha. They lived longer and ate better than any alpha in the prison.

Bane thought deeply. What lay before him was a system largely unspoken.  “Why? Why do alphas give so much to omegas?”

Majd stroked the side of Bane’s head. “Because of the instinct to fight, to kill and to pass on your genes. Try as you might, you cannot run from that desire. And omegas are the only ones that may sate it. You will understand when your heat comes, _habibi_. ”

 Bane shook his head, content in the knowledge that this unspoken desire was simply another adult emotion that Bane would never understand. As he grew older and bigger, he saw more and more violence around him as he was permitted to travel further out of his cell as the years wore on.

Bane realized that if he did not begin conditioning his body to withstand the storm outside of his temporary oasis, he would be swept away and killed. So as soon as he was able, Bane began training his body, asking the guards and other friendlier prisoners for advice. He read as many books as his hands were able to grab, keeping himself intellectually sound as well.

The day that he was finally released among the alphas, Bane was calm. The first man that had attempted to kill him that day ended up with his throat slit by the crafted shiv Bane had hidden in his shirt.

The alphas death was waved off. Bane was dismissed as a child, and the alpha a weakling and a coward. But Bane saw the fear in the other's eyes, and he knew that death was only the beginning of a lifetime of fighting and blood. Though daunting, Bane felt something within him purr at the idea.

Bane began clashing with the other alphas, asserting his position and dominance. For many years, he had feuds with others, temporary alliances, and betrayals. Through them all, Bane felt the omegas eyes on him, causing a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Omegas tried to speak to him, to convince him to spend time with them. Bane refused them. Mating was not something that he felt any interest towards. He had a functional left hand. But he treated the omegas respectively because it was simply something that happened, as normal and punctual as the sun in the sky.

An example would be the day an omega slapped his arm in irritation after he accidentally ran into him. Bane would have pulverized any alpha that dared to strike him, especially over something as minor as this. But as it was an omega, the hit barely tickled, and it was more bratty than agressive. On occasion, after helping an omega finish their laundry, or do some heavy lifting, he could even get some bread or rice from them as a reward.

Bane did not treat omegas cruelly, neither did he worship at their feet like some of the alphas within the prison did. He focused his efforts on getting stronger and smarter before the alphas in the prison recognized what a threat he was.

When Bane’s first heat emerged, it was something that struck out of the blue. One minute he was reading, and the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the ground; panting as though he had just finished strenuous exercise. When a passing alpha saw Bane in his state, he came over and one sniff told him what he already suspected. That alpha alerted the others, and Bane was forcibly wrestled down and tied in the darkest corner of the pit by alphas and omegas alike, to prevent him from killing other alphas and mounting unwilling omegas.

They pushed him down on a surprisingly soft surface, one that was stuffed with straw and cloth instead of the normal boards that doubled as their beds in the Pit. Bane was surprised that they were kind enough to provide a mattress for him. But when he took a deep breath, he could smell it.

The scent of semen, slick, sweat and sex. Whatever this mattress was, it had clearly been present for insurmountable  acts of debauchery.

They tied him down with thick ropes, and he heard someone snarl quietly in his ear:

“You are fortunate the omegas in this prison are giving you a chance, Bane. I would cut your prick off now and leave you to bleed until you are dead if they did not.”

It was a testament to the strength of the heat that Bane did not do anything except growl savagely in the direction where the voice came from. They blindfolded him as well, as soon as he was tied up. He was left on his hands and knees, the rope digging deeply into his skin. Bane struggled and groaned as the heat worsened between his legs, and the omegas a little ways from him were quietly speaking to one another. He only heard brief sentences, so great was his agony.

_“...are you sure? This one is different from the others… didn’t have a life outside of the Pit, he was born here...”_

_“... not like my alpha, Bane is big and he’s never been particularly nice toward omegas. If he goes wilder than normal while fucking, someone could die…”_

_“...maybe we should just let him go. He’ll be easier to kill with his mind clouded. We can have his things after he’s dead…”_

_“...hung like a horse, have you seen it?”_

_“He will no longer be an adolescent after this heat. He will become a full-fledged alpha male. Someone strong, intelligent and capable of taking care of someone. Will none of you claim him?”_

_“I will. I don't care for being his mated omega, but it’s been a while since I’ve mated. And he helped me grab a book from the last supply drop. I enjoyed it.”_

_“Good luck.”_

 Bane heard faint footsteps walk toward him as a large group quickly moved away. It was dark, so dark, and the cool hand that settled upon his flushed face made him jump.

 “Bane. I will help you through your heat. Is this alright with you? I will not mate with you if you do not want it, or if you have a specific omega you wish to request for.”

 Bane licked his dry lips. “Does it matter what I want?” 

“If you do not wish to mate, I will lie beside you. The proximity and scent should calm you, and make the heat a little more bearable.”

Bane considered his options.

He could do anything he wished. He was strong. This paltry heat was nothing in the face of his strength.

 But what was it like to mate? To push his cock past the tight, wet ring of an omega’s entrance? All these things he had heard described by the men in the Pit and books, but never experienced. Bane’s curiosity and lust spiked. He made his decision as he breathed in the never-before-so-alluring scent of the omega that kneeled in front of him.

“I will mate with you. And I thank you for doing this for me.”

He was kissed tenderly on the mouth, the cheek and his neck. The feeling of teeth so close to his vulnerable jugular had his pulse racing in fear. But the prickling sensation caused by fear travelled directly to his hardening cock. 

“You are sweet, Bane. I will be gentle. Please listen to me if I say you are being too rough, and do not lose yourself completely to this heat. This will be arduous, but it is not forever.”

He felt the omega slip off his pants and undergarments. And felt smooth, uncalloused hands, so different from his own, wrap around his throbbing length.

Bane was so thankful for the anonymous omega that had volunteered to help him through his cycle. The sensation of piercing an omega’s hole for the first time had him bite down on his own lip to prevent himself from spilling inside the moment he felt heat encompass him.

He had never experienced in his life a feeling so pleasurably intense that it had him foregoing any concern or thought for his injuries. He knew there were ropes cutting into his wrists and bruising whatever else, as his pistoned his cock in and out of the moaning frame beneath him. But he couldn’t care. There was always that next peak. So close. 

When the omega had wandered off to eat and rest, Bane recalled bucking into the mattress desperately, sobbing as he strived for release, but it never peaking; uncomparable to the slick, tight heat of an omega’s hole. When that omega came back to begin the pleasures anew, Bane was crying out in thanks. He, who had never so much as begged or pleaded for anything in his life, had cried tears of gratitude unto that omega as he desperately thrust into him, seeking release.

At the end of his heat, he felt the presence of many others crowd around him, moving the restraints. Bane collapsed on the mattress too weak to move. His blindfold was removed, and his vision swam.

 _“Well, what do you know. Did you tame the beast, little one?_ ”

Bane heard chuckling around him. He felt his face flush with anger and self-consciousness. A voice shushed them, and they went away. Bane smelt the faint scent of food. He tried to lift his head but felt too sore to bother. The omega that stayed with him lifted his head unto his lap. He offered Bane food from the bowl he carried with him.

Exhausted and humiliated from the unsightly display he had shown during his heat; he slowly ate boiled rice from that omega’s hand, too weak to lift his arms. Bane finally understood at that moment why alphas feared and obeyed their weaker counterparts. 

Bane could not comprehend how in the world he would have survived his heat had he ever injured or slighted an omega in the past. They were already prejudiced against him for his frame and private attitude. They would have surely allowed the others to kill him in a moment of weakness.

Even if he had escaped, attempted to force anyone, the combined force of all the alphas would have surely killed him. All the omegas would have turned against him, and he would have had no one to lay beside him or to mate. He would not only wrestle with his need for release in this dark hell, but also that damnable instinct to impregnate and protect the smaller frame bent beneath him.   

After eating, the omega helped Bane stand, using his body as Bane’s crutch. Bane’s legs were weak from lack of movement, and he moved quite sluggishly. When they walked into a group of alphas, he was sure that he would die. Surely, they would take the opportunity to kill him.

But the omega that had kept him company gave the alphas a chilly glare. The group moved on, no disrespect or growl given.

Bane spent a few days with the omega that had helped him through his heat. They spent the majority of that time within Bane’s cell, lying on the cot and regaining their energy, the omega’s smaller frame pressed against him. Bane never learned the name of that omega. He was curious, but his companion did not bring the topic up. So Bane left it.

Bane still had his eyes, and he spent time observing the slim body cuddled against him. The omega was older than Bane by several years but scarcely reached his shoulders. His frame was slight like many of the omegas, his skin was swarthy and dark, and he kept his hair tucked under a veil.

Bane did not recall ever helping that omega, and he understood why he did not remember. The man beside him was very quiet and monotonic. He gave basic answers and did not volunteer much. But sometimes, if Bane said something right, he could see a small smile form on omega’s lips, much like the sun peeking from behind a cloud.

After their period of rest, Bane and his omega took to their own separate ways. They still spent time together after Bane’s heat, every few days. And seeing Bane interact fondly with his omega improved his standing with the other omegas. Made him seem less indomitable, more human.

Life improved. Alphas did not seek a fight from him as often. He received offers from various omegas, to become his mate, his fuck, or even his friend. Bane took what they gave him, and learnt the pleasures that came from fucking. But something prevented him from bonding. An instinct that cautioned him to wait.

Years passed in this fashion. A continuous, slow agonizing fight for survival at the bottom of the hole. Bane saw the people that learnt to survive and others that lost themselves to madness and despair. Men were lowered in and out of the Pit. And through it all stood Bane outside his cell, guarding his treasures within.

One day, a famine arrived. And with it, a terrible disease. It first appeared as a cold, that had the victim shivering in fever, developing runs, and then die from malnutrition. Many suffered; alpha, omega, beta; the disease did not discriminate. One of those overtaken was the omega that Bane had first lain with.

Bane held the smaller omega’s body close to him and kissed the top of the man's cool forehead. He passed the corpse to the guards. Bane stood outside of his cell, watching the bodies being lifted out of the Pit, he was only thankful that he had lost only a companion and not a mate. When the famine stopped, and everyone began to recover, someone was lowered into the Pit.

Someone, that had everyone within the Pit pause and stare up at the descending figure with shock. 

Bane was frozen outside his cell, watching the petite figure come closer and closer toward the ground, like an angel descending into hell. His mouth was open, and in his chest, an indescribable emotion fluttered.

Talia’s mother was being lowered into the Pit.

Bane soon discovered that his previous desire to protect during his heat was a pale star compared to the brilliant moon of Talia.

 

* * *

 

As far as John was concerned, sex was something that nobody ever spoke about. It was dirty, embarrassing and if you said it too loud, your parents would cuff the back of your head.

Then his mother died. And his father soon after. When John was tossed into the Gotham foster care system, he learned pretty quickly that nobody cared what you said or did as long as you didn’t make them uncomfortable or mad. But however hard John tried, his new “mommy and daddy” was never his _real_ mommy and daddy.

And when John told them that, they dropped him right back to the orphanage and replaced him with another little boy, like a broken toy that his daddy had once returned for a new one.

 His next “foster family” (John learned those new words by now) was loud and crowded. There were over eight kids in that house. He had to share his room with three other boys. And those other boys were pretty mean. They screamed, ran around and hit each other a lot.  John too, even when he yelled at them to stop.

At dinner time, his new family didn’t seem to have a filter either and would talk about all sorts of things at the table. Sex stuff, swearing, guns, and drugs. John spent a lot of dinners with his head down at his food, missing his old dinner table, where it was quiet and at least his mommy would say “please” and “thank you”.

John was pulled from that foster home when he got food poisoning, but mostly because the policemen found bruises on his shoulders and body. John told them it was because of his new brothers, but the policemen didn't believe that an omega like him could play roughy with alpha boys. 

John lived in the orphanage for a while after the foster homes, and he liked it a lot. There was more room to sleep, and more friends to play with, so he didn’t have to spend too much time thinking about his mommy and daddy. His time in the foster homes had changed him, and he wasn’t so afraid to say things like “shitty” and “damn”. He found out soon that it was a little less taboo to talk about sex or swears in the boys home. Still embarrassing, but no adult thought that they should be corrected, on account of how “bad” and “filthy” most of them were anyway.

He heard those words a lot from the dads and moms that visited the boys home, especially when they found John with his group of friends saying some bad words. John still felt hurt and a little embarrassed when they did. He knew was an orphan, not a dirty thing. Yet most of the parents, adults, or couples that visited the boys home treated him like one. And after the fifth mommy and daddy that called him that, he just stuck out his tongue at them.

His friend Peter always gave those people his middle finger. John would have liked to do that too, but Peter always got grounded and his desserts taken away when those parents tattled to Father Reilly.

 Father Reilly was OK. He wasn’t like those other priests that John saw at church sometimes; always angry or lecturing him. He was nice, and he only got angry if John did something that even he could admit was pretty stupid.

One of those times was when John and his other omega friend Timothy told the alpha boy Marcus to pull his pants down so that they could see what the difference was between omega _things_ and alpha _things_.

Father Reilly walked in to see John and Timothy both peering down at Marcus’ _thing_ , the alpha boys pants and underwear down around his ankles.

John and Timothy were dragged into Feather Reilly’s office by their ears ( _and wowee, that had stung_ ) and spent most of that day sitting on hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs as the man paced back and forth, ranting at them about _decency_ and _maturity_ and a whole lot of “ _What in the name of God were you thinking?! That’s not socially acceptable behaviour, nor should it ever be!_ ”

John brushed off the lecture and made sure to keep his distance from naked alphas at that point. He successfully avoided interacting with other alphas for a few years while in the boys home, but a curiosity inside him had started asking: _Why? Why can I shower with the other omega boys in the communal shower, but omegas have to be separated from alpha and beta boys? What makes them special?_ As he started to focus more on what made alphas different, he realized that if he could tell if someone was an alpha or omega, just by smelling them. 

Nancy, the pizza delivery woman who came by on Saturdays, John would find his eyes drawn to her strong thighs. Peter, the gardener who never neglected to wave hello and give a smile, John would sigh at the sight of those large hands ripping up roots, or planting flowers. They both had these smells, that reminded John of hot chocolate and Oreos, and made him want to giggle a lot.

John missed Nancy and Peter when he was moved into his third foster home. And he grew even more frustrated when he couldn’t even explain why he missed them so much. One day, his school brought over a few doctors from Gotham General to their school to give them “The Talk” something that everyone began whispering furiously about.

All the girl alphas, boy alphas, girl omegas, and boy omegas were separated into different classrooms. Beta boys and girls joined the alpha boys and girls. John sat beside his friend Timothy, the boy still living in the orphanage. The two grinned at each other and before they could start talking, the teacher snapped the board hard, shouting at the class to _shut up and pay attention!_

A professional looking man walked in, in a white coat and briefcase. He set up the projector with the teacher, while all the omegas looked at each other nervously. With a small click, an image was finally projected unto the whiteboard, everyone letting out small noises of fascination and disgust as a diagram of a naked male body popped up. The doctor began speaking without a pause.

“Hello, boys. My name is Doctor Liam Lam. I will be here today to teach you extensively on your body, how to take care of your body, and sex. I am told by your teacher that there will be a quiz on these subject matters, so please, pay attention.”

First, the doctor began speaking about the biological differences between alpha and omegas. How alphas had knots on their penises, omegas didn’t. Omegas could lactate, alphas couldn’t. Betas were able to do both, but they had a lower success rate of pregnancy than omega and alpha mates. Doctor Lam even spoke about to identify alphas from omegas, and each group had attuned their sense of smell to seek out potential mates. (John fidgeted nervously at this and began wringing his hands. Timothy raised an eyebrow at him.)

Doctor Lam went back to the rather clinical diagram of the male omega body shown behind him, where John and his peers spent some time muffling their giggles over the doctor’s excessive use of the word “testes” and “scrotum”.

The giggling was replaced with avid fascination as the doctor began describing how sex took place between different omega and alpha couples. The picture on the whiteboard was replaced with an image of a rear, with a clear line mapping the inside. John could see the intestines and even the dick and balls. It was the most explicit thing John had seen since Markus’ half hidden weiner, but it felt so… disconnected. John felt more like he had to act surprised instead of feeling anything close to embarrassment at the image before him.

“Here is the sphincter, significantly more pliable than their alpha beta counterparts; and along the anal cavity, male omegas are differentiated by their anal canal being lined with Bartholin glands, making it possible for them to secrete lubrication. Unlike females, male omegas possess a few more, to naturally lubricate and ease penetration.”

The doctor pointed to another part of the omega anatomy. It was a small coloured section above the balls and dick.

“The omega prostate differs greatly from the alpha or beta prostate, it is much more engorged and sensitive to stimulation.”

John was amazed at how clinical and boring the doctor made the prostate sound. When John had spoken to a few older omegas in the boys home, they couldn't seem to stop talking about how awesome it was. Why didn’t the doctor elaborate on what “awesome” meant? Most of the stuff Doctor Lam talked about he already knew from TV and Father Reilly.

The doctor began speaking on other alphas. John noticed how little detail he gave, as compared to the clinical and detailed honesty he displayed during his description of the omega body. But when the doctor spoke briefly how female alphas were born with enlarged ovipositors; a bigger “clitoris” that allowed them to impregnate omegas, John rubbed his knees together. He felt a bit disturbed at the small flare of heat that burst up in his stomach.

Soon, the doctor began talking about a topic that John had never heard his friends, Father Reilly or people on Saturday morning TV say.

“As you begin to develop and grow older, you may begin to find yourself dreaming of sex in real life or in your dreams, causing a reaction from your omega penis. This is a normal part of puberty, to develop the omega in order to prepare themselves for their alpha mates in the future. Thankfully, now due to modern society, we have methods of preventing this unhealthy habit if dreams such as those persist.”

The doctor reached into his briefcase and pulled out a plastic and metal device, both in a ziplock bag. John and his friends gazed wide-eyed at the scary contraptions. They looked like medieval torture devices.

The doctor held up the metal one. “These are called chastity cages. We have many different models, made from many different materials to best suit the omega present. Whenever we have cases of omegas depending excessively on their penises for release, they are prescribed with medication and a chastity device to curb that desire.”

John saw his friend Timothy raise his hand slowly.

The doctor pointed at him. “Yes, young man?”

“Sir, why are omegas not allowed to touch our penises? What makes them so dangerous?” 

The doctor nodded with a patient look on his face. “Because the omega penis and clitoris is an evolutionary failure. It is a byproduct of your body that serves no purpose in the overall process of reproduction. It causes sexual addiction should it be allowed for sexual pleasure. For a time, it was even debated in the past if omegas penises or clitoris’ should be removed.”

The entire class gasped. John clasped his legs together tightly, feeling his face go white. The doctor laughed.

“Do not worry children. That motion was deemed excessively cruel and dangerous. Now, with medication that eliminates sexual desire and a chastity belt or cage; it is more than enough to counteract these unneeded desires.”

John huffed a sigh of relief, alongside the entire class. 

“That being said, do not be shy in seeking out your guardian for medication or a chastity device. It is perfectly normal in these times for you to experience unwanted pleasure from your penis or clitoris. Around 80% of all omegas experience sexual arousal or a desire to masturbate when they reach fifteen. And those are the ones that seek out help. So relax. None of you are in the minority should you feel these desires.”

John left the classroom, feeling much more informed. But he couldn’t shake the small feeling of disquiet.

Omegas used to almost have their things cut off? What the hell was that about? Was sexual desire really so dangerous? John was definitely sure of one thing. He was reporting _straight_ to Father Reilly should anything feel off.

His dick was staying attached to his body.

 

* * *

 

Bane awoke in a place he had never seen before. Never even been capable of dreaming up.  He was in an enclosed space on the softest surface he had ever laid upon in his life. The room around him was dark, but the many small candles lit on furniture around the room helped him see a little in the dim room.

He realized his face was wrapped, and the very bandages he was breathing in were soaked in and moist. It numbed his face and slowed his thinking. Bane was beginning to panic and tear himself out of bed.

Than Talia came in, and it was alright.

The smaller girl crawled into his bed and buried her face into his chest. She did not cry, but she did shake quite heavily. Bane scarcely believed he was alive at that moment, holding Talia to his chest.

When the other alphas had discovered that Talia’s mother was an omega, they nearly went in a frenzy. The other omegas, jealous and untrusting of this sudden development by sending in the first female omega, ostracized her and left her fate to the wind.

 _Any harm_ done _to the foreign she-devil_ , they had said, _is no skin off our backs. She has no place with us._

Then the cell door was accidentally left open. And they took her.

Bane barely managed to save Talia as the horde descended upon her mother. And when he later went to collect Talia's mothers' corpse to the guards to be disposed of, it was a small consolation that she had seemingly ended her own life first well before the first alpha had taken her.

Bane did his best to help Talia not only grow, but to give her all the happiness he could spare.

The others did not care what Bane did with Talia. Some were jealous at the gift that Bane was given; a small child to care for and to diminish the worst of the paternal instincts that demanded pups. But after the death of Nadia, they were consolidated enough to leave the two of them alone. Besides, Bane was large and intimidating enough for even the most aggressive alpha to consider picking a fight with him.

But when Talia’s true gender was revealed, once again the omegas turned their backs to this foreign creature, and this time they denounced Bane as well. 

For a long time, Bane’s social standing was relatively high within the prison; his strength, ability, and submission to the omegas that resided within the Pit was respected and left alone.

And when Bane had taken a liking to Talia's mother, his attachment to the foreign invader was disliked heavily. Still, he was strong, therefore allowed to live.

But when Bane had once again withheld information from the people within the Pit; this time, they condemned him to death, no matter how strong he was.

Bane ran to the wall to save Talia, pushing her up as high as he could reach. He fought off the few that had reached him first, feeling bones crack beneath his fist. But there was too many. The hoard descended upon him, and he said goodbye to Talia, closing his eyes, prepared to die.

They did not let him die.

They injured him to the brink of death and forced the doctor to bring him back.

Then they left him there. In a perpetual state of agony, a lesson to any and all that dared obstruct the carefully structured social order. A message to any and all who dared oppose the rules that had been set in place.

But Talia had come back. And she brought with her the full force of her father, that not even the strongest could fight against.

As Bane remembered, his eyes drifted close, surrendering to sleep. Talia was safe. And anything else was irrelevant.

 

* * *

 

John awoke for the second time in a week where his dick was hard.

It wasn’t even voluntary. He didn’t even have those “wet dreams” the doctor had told him about. But if it happened more than once, then it clearly wasn’t an accident. John needed to find an adult quick.

John went to Father Reilly after breakfast, informing the priest of the condition he woke up with that morning. Father Reilly nodded.

 “It’s alright John. This is perfectly normal for boys of your age.”

John shook his head impatiently. “Everyone keeps saying how normal it is, but they never tell us anything!”

Father Reilly laughed. “I understand where you’re coming from John. But keep in mind, sex is something that is sacred, and kept between mates. If you’re feeling isolated or confused, I can assure you that around half the boys in here have been equipped with chastity devices.”

John perked up, eyes wide. “Really?!”

Father Reilly nodded. “It’s still a matter of confidentiality. I can’t tell you who they are because they might be embarrassed by their uncontrollable nature. But thank you for bringing this up with me John, and I’ll see with getting you fitted soon.”

By the end of the day, Father Reilly called John into his office, laying out a few cages on top of his desk for John’s persuasion. John went in the bathroom to try on a few, finally picking a metal one that constricted, but did not hurt or squeeze down on him.

Fumbling around at the bottom, he managed to lock his cage. He then pulled his pants up and paced a few circles around the bathroom, seeing if there was a significant difference in how the device affected his movement. There wasn’t.

He walked out of the bathroom into the office.

John gave his chastity key to Father Reilly and the priest nodded at him.

“Come to me anytime it really hurts. Not when you feel arousal. Once a month, a doctor will be here at the shelter to examine your penis for any injuries or symptoms of long-term damage. Those are rare, but thankfully in this day and age, they’re treatable.” 

John nodded. The weight of the cage around his penis a comfortable feeling, telling him that he was finally doing something right, that he was being curbed from being a sex addict.

As John left the office, from the corner of his eye he saw Father Reilly place his own key with its name tag in a drawer full of keys, each with their own name tags. John grinned to himself and continued on his way to the recreation hall.

 

* * *

 

Bane flexed his shoulders and grinned behind the mask. It had been a productive day.

Churchill, another alpha, lay groaning at his feet, many visible bruises and bumps riddling his body. The man had no weakling within the League of Shadows, and Bane had defeated him.

The road to recovery had been brutal, torturous even, but Bane has persevered. He had not only shown the members here that he was strong, possibly even an monster.

His lack of response to pain, speed, and inhuman strength terrified the weaker men in the League and disquieted the rest

“Well done, Bane.” A voice behind him purred.

Bane turned around, his stance relaxed. Talie strolled toward him. Her own face and body were riddled with bruises and cuts, but her radiant face belated any real damage.

She was still developing into a full-fledged member of the League; her merciless childhood propelling her beyond the average soldier, both mentally and physically. Her ruthlessness and acting made her father proud.

She seemed to be the only one who felt pride for Bane.

Bane felt eyes on him once again, and looked behind him, at the sight of Ra's Al Ghul staring at him, expressionless and distant.

The man saw him and saw a reminder of the Pit destroying his mate. Talia had not spared any details regarding how her mother died, already hardened to the tragedy in her life. Bane did not particularly care what the man thought of him, but he knew that his presence was a constant source of distention between Talia and her father.

He had offered numerous times to leave, but Talia did not allow him to do so. So he remained, pushing himself to make sure that he grew stronger and smarter each day. Not only to protect Talia, but himself as well.

Bane did not understand why Ra’s thought that his wife would survive in that place. As far as he was able to observe, the comings and goings within the Pit were the same as The League. Although even he had to admit, the omegas here were much more different than the ones within the Pit.

They were all trained using the same methods as their alpha counterparts. They banded together, training and speaking to each other. They did not seem to care what the alphas did, and scarcely communicated with them unless they felt the need or desire to. But most of the alphas within the League of Shadows were much more disciplined and in control of themselves than the individuels Bane had encountered in the Pit.

However, the different varieties of people that found themselves within the League presented its share of benefits and weaknesses. With a multitude of backgrounds, opinions, and lifestyles, it was the perfect environment for disagreements leading to tensions, then fights and even possibly death.

But the League strived to make better men of themselves, to eliminate the need for posturing or mating and to be replaced with a sense of purpose. When alphas and omegas were united, all their attention fixated on one singular goal in mind, they proved to be a deadly force that turned into the League of Shadows. But alphas were nearly incapable of working together without omegas. Alphas needed to be first and the strongest. That instinct was an inconvenience on the best of days.

Occasionally, there was an alpha upstart that sought to make trouble, spoke a little too loudly, or drew too much attention.

Before Bane or another alpha made their way to the troublemaker to shut them up, an omega would quickly intervene to sooth the man in a… variety of ways. And other times, if that particular upstart was a little too vicious to an omega, they would let the man get a thrashing before intervening, to teach them a lesson. This was primarily how omegas helped to preserve the tentative peace that was established within the dojo.

Bane found himself fascinated by the omegas that resided within the League once he had the time to observe the environment around him. Not fascinated enough to neglect his own training or Talia, but fascinated nevertheless.

They were so unlike the omegas in the Pit. They did not latch onto an alpha to gorge themselves or give them status. Instead, a vast majority took the position of commanders, strategy planners, spies or warriors. A select few worked as cleaners or cooks, but alphas did that too.

Most of them did not possess the typical slim frame of an omega, their bodies were developed with strong muscle, and littered with scars from fights.

When Bane had first seen the horrific scarring of immeasurable burns on an omegas body in the baths, he had pulled the man aside to quietly ask him who had been hurting him and if he needed Bane’s help in killing the abuser.

The omega had laughed in his face and explained to him that he had received these scars from the Israeli. He had once gotten himself captured by a terrorist organization his team was ordered to eliminate. They interrogated him with branding irons and hot coals, demanding information on the League of Shadows. And when the League returned to end the tyranny, he took advantage of the initial chaos, first breaking himself out and taking his sweet time burning each and every one of his wardens to cinders. 

Bane saw more displays of strength and dominance by omegas, in various settings. Once, Bane had been present to see an omega fight and fuck an alpha in the wrestling ring. It had been a close match, stretching on for a long time, managing to even gather a jeering audience. Eventually, the omega managed to flip the alpha and pin the man in a submissive hold.

The audience cheered once, and the fun began. The omega had torn the man’s pants down and gripped the semi-erect cock, squeezing the base. The alpha below him groaned, still kicking the ground and attempting to wiggle out of the hold that he was trapped in. The audience around the two began laughing and shouting out lewd suggestions, while Bane stood behind them, looking over their shoulders, eyes wide and mouth open behind the mask.

One of the omegas in the audience threw a small bottle at the entangled pair. The omega within the ring had picked up the bottle and flipped the alpha on his hands and knees. The omega positioned himself, grinding his crotch against the other’s rear. The alpha beneath him began struggling and growling viciously, kicking out.

The omega leaned over and bit the alpha hard on the back of the neck. The alpha immediately stopped. Amid the chatter, Bane heard the omega growl at the alpha through the flesh gripped in his mouth.

The audience began laughing harder.

_“Come on boys! Get this show on the road!”_

_“He’s already beat you! Let the omega have what he wants, it’s been a while for both of you!”_

The alpha beneath the omega frowned, and finally emitted a sardonic laugh, before giving up and relaxing his body, ceasing all fight and submitting. The audience cheered louder.

The omega pulled the alpha’s pants all the way down and dripped the bottle’s contents between the alpha’s legs. Bane was more fascinated than aroused, taking in consideration how the omega prepared the alpha beneath him, gently scissoring his fingers in and out, and how the omega groomed the male, licking and cleaning the bite he had inflicted. The alpha spread himself more at the treatment, leaning back to let the fingers penetrate him deeper and allowing room for the omega to lean in. Bane was surprised at how calmly the two managed to have sex, nevermind their biological roles, but especially with such a large audience present.

When the preparation was done, the omega took out his hardened dick, prodding at the alpha’s entrance. Bane half-expected the alpha to begin struggling or fighting anew; instead, the larger male purred at the omega and pushed back against the cock entering him.

Bane was aware that more than a few people around him had already pulled out their own cocks and were stroking themselves to the rhythm that the omega established with pounding in the alpha below him. And he was no less aroused. But curiosity overweigh arousal and Bane was determined to see the mating in all detail. It did not last too long, thankfully.

The omega began thrusting erratically as soon as his partner was adjusted, reaching his peak with a small whine. And the alpha below him who had been stroking his cock unloaded upon the floor. The omega pulled out, and Bane could see a faint thread of cum that clung to the omega’s cock and a small drop that dripped out of the alpha’s ass.

The mating done, the omega began licking the alpha again, grooming him clean from the mating session. The people around them groaned.

_“Oh come one! One more round?”_

The alpha, laying on the ground exhausted, showed the more vocal section of the audience his middle finger. The omega behind him, who had been licking his entrance clean, chuckled.

“We’re finished here. After I’m done the cleaning, we’ll bathe and go to bed.”

The audience groaned half-heartedly and dispersed. Most of them to resume training or to return to their barracks.

Bane fully expected the alpha to be ridiculed and bullied the next day, but nothing happened. Other than a prominent limp, there was no change to the day after Bane had seen the alpha publicly fucked.

Bane decided to ask Namdol, an omega that was his first teacher and had also been present at the event yesterday. Pulling the man aside, he asked him why the two had sex before everyone present.

Namdol waved Bane off. “It’s not all that common you see a public fucking. Ra’s and the generals think that it’s a distraction. But sometimes when you get into a good fight and you win, you can’t control yourself. As long as it’s rare and brief, it’s ok.”

He then asked the man why the alpha had permitted the omega to fuck him, and more specifically why that particular alpha was not… well, not exactly shamed, but why everything seemed to be so normal.

“The strongest is not limited to alpha or omega. But the rule here is that the strongest may claim whatever they wish. That alpha encountered an opponent who was stronger than he, but he is also stronger than many. Nobody has lived their life without loss. And whoever wishes to bully that alpha for losing is claiming that they have never lost.”

Well then. Bane supposed that whoever was stupid enough to proclaim that they had never lost a fight was asking for everyone within the League to challenge them.

After his conversation with Namdol, he spent some time observing the alpha and omega from the previous day. They lost to various opponents but won many bouts as well.

Bane changed his opinions of omegas within the League after that. He decided that they did not need poster or prim, but only did so when it suited themselves or the mission at hand. When Bane fought them, he suppressed his instinct to protect and did not hold back. In turn, the omegas thanked him for the experience the fight taught them and went on their way to train others.

It was bizarre. But it was how it worked, and the secret behind total cooperation and excellent teamwork. Once Bane knew that he noticed that his own skill improved as well.

Bane’s first mission came to him from Chiro, an older, hard-eyed omega who had been observing his training and decided that he was ready to begin contributing to the cause.

Their target was a group of American businessmen, whose greed for money and profits had poisoned the water and many lives in Southern Africa. They had purchased the land through legal means, but subjected the workers, willing or unwilling, adult or child; to horrific living conditions, and disregarded the nature and creatures thriving there entirely. And now, they were travelling back to the states to encourage other men of means to employ the same tactics.

They had to be eliminated to prevent the loss of innocent human lives and the deliacte forage that resided in that land. Their deaths, alongside the deaths of their whole rotten corporation, would ensure that others stayed clear of doing anything similar.

Their deaths would restore balance to the world, and ensure that it would stay pure for as long as the fear was fresh.

A team went to Southern Africa to destroy the factories and shameless exploitation of workers. Bane was a part of a team deployed to the United States. The entire group consisted of seven people, six of them alphas, including Bane, and Chiro. Chiro was the team leader and in charge of communication. He would report directly to Ra’s Al Ghul to periodically inform the leader of their progress and complications.

When Bane arrived in New York City, he was first stunned at the blatant indulgence and excessive nature of the Americans. Thankfully, Bane had utilized his recovery period and any breaks to read books about foreign lands. He might have been struck dumb had he not. Their bizarre electronics, flashing lights, and loud voices. Comparing the rich who resembled overstuffed pigeons to the people who lay curled up in the streets behind trash. The food portions that they served were so large that they threw leftovers in the trash. The _garbage_.

Bane was thankful that he had the opportunity to kill those businessmen. They represented everything despicable that he saw around him.

The operation was relatively simple. Bane and his team assassinated the hired bodyguards and slid silently into their place. They each remained close to their targets, quietly working behind the scenes as those inhumane garbage partied and ate their days away in a city of excess. Most of the businessmen were killed through the League’s carefully orchestrated “accidents”. They ranged from drug overdoses, to plane crashes. Only one survived the preplanned car crash. The man had pulled himself from the wreckage and ran toward an abandoned construction site, suddenly aware of the attempt on his life.

Bane shot the man dead with a bullet through the eye and took his wallet, leaving behind a petty criminals fingerprints.

The mission had been expected to be drawn out for six months, but Bane and the others only needed four. The last two months was primarily surveillance and overlooking. Guiding the preappointed men that the League had chosen to occupy the seats that the dead men left behind.

These chosen few abolished the factories and inhuman employment that their predecessors established, and the League agreed to leave them to their suddenly attained wealth and status so long as they remained obedient. And if they didn’t, there were always others eager to occupy the seat they sat upon. 

Bane was satisfied that everything had gone according to plan, with no complications. Chiro was giddy. According to the omega, these missions often had a moron who decided that he needed to strike out on his own. Thankfully, this assignment was clear.

As far as his first mission went, Bane was quite happy. His last week in America was in Los Angeles as winter settled in, and he and his team awaited the private plane that would take them back to Tibet, where the League’s base resided.

Bane found himself going out into the city to often sightsee, enjoying the warm weather and to gather books that were not available at home. His English was quite proficient, though he believed he still needed improvement. His mask was covered with a scarf and hat. Whenever possible, he donned a motorcycle helmet as well. He received looks for his size, but unlike life within the League, nobody challenged him. He passed his time peacefully, but one day when he came back, he found himself standing in the living room with many team members giggling. 

The smell of alcohol was quite prominent. He raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s wrong?”

Haji, a skilled engineer, looked up at him. Bane could already tell that the man was slightly tipsy. When he spoke, his normally serious  voice was replaced by something that sounded as if he were holding back a loud laugh. 

“See Bane, we heard rumours from the base that the big city Americans treated their omegas differently. We wanted to see… firsthand, what they meant.”

Bane stared at him. 

Chiro sighed, putting down the laptop he was occupied with as he turned around to face Bane. “What he means Bane, is that this _tölöö güideg tenegüüd_  and his cohorts have ordered omega prostitutes.” 

Chiro returned to his laptop with a sigh. Bane blinked.

_Oh._

_But what did they -_

“What do you mean that they treat their omegas differently?” Bane asked Haji. The man giggled.

“Oh, _you’ll see_. But don’t worry, we got enough whores for everyone!”

The room cheered. Bane shook his head. At least they were sober enough to change out of their normal uniform into civilian clothing. With their guns and bags  tucked away out of sight, and they looked for all the world like normal, inebriated, idiot tourists.

Hopefully, none of these prostitutes were spies or would tell anyone of what they saw. Bane would check anyone who came into the room, and after they were done, give them enough money to ensure that none of them ever breathed a word of who they came to service.

But even Bane had to admit. It had been a while since he had properly knotted anybody. He had a few partners in the League, but sometimes sleeping was a better alternative than sex, especially after an exhausting day. It was  more of a coin toss if you asked for sex; they either rejected you on the spot or wanted a good fight before you got started.

Bane had learned the appreciate a good omega within the League, one that was strong, tough and encouraged you to be so too. But after the combination of convincing, fighting, and fucking, Bane found even himself exhausted. 

So the prospect of taking his time grinding his knot against a relaxed omega hole, without an audience, a fight or a smart mouth, while he teased the smaller convulsing frame beneath him was not... wholly unwelcome.

Bane decided to take a shower and change into looser clothing that could be easily removed. He spent the rest of his time reading in his bedroom and trying not to think about anything related to omegas or their holes.

When the prostitutes arrived, Bane ignored the catcalls and growls that his team emitted and began patting down the first omega that walked through the door.

There were six in all. Three men and three women. The looks of trepidation and fear they gazed at Bane was untrained, and they smelled faintly of soap, artificial lubricant, and fear. Once Bane was satisfied that they were not spies, carried no weapons or cameras, he allowed them into the room.

Each teammate took to a hooker, Chiro playing some music through the television. Bane sat himself down on the couch, where Passang (team member, marksman expert) was already kissing one of the women, sitting her on his lap, his hand up her small skirt.

Everyone seemed significantly occupied, either talking or beginning to engage with the omegas. Five out of the original six had found their own alpha to speak to. Chiro, the team omega, seemed more preoccupied with watching the prostitutes than engaging.

Bane saw one of the boy omegas look around frantically, seeking to entertain anyone but the frightening man that had questioned them so seriously at the door. However, all the spots were taken.

The boy looked at Bane with a questioning look. Bane nodded and gestured for the boy to come over. The omega strolled over and lay against Bane’s side, tucking his head beneath Bane’s chin in a submissive gesture. Bane could feel the smaller frame quivering slightly.

“My name’s Winston. How about you?”

Bane placed a large hand on the slim boy’s back, feeling it tense, before relaxing under his soft strokes. He patted gently, calming the boy against him. “You may call me Bane.”

“Sounds foreign.” Winston sniffed at Bane and smiled at the faint smell of arousal emitting from the alpha. “What brings you to Los Angeles Bane?” Winston’s hand slowly slinked under Bane’s shirt, stroking his chest, and gliding across his solid abdomen. Bane felt his cock stir in interest.

“Awaiting a plane to take me home.” Winston hummed, tracing the outline of Bane’s hard cock through his pants. The soft, expert touches that Winston placed on Bane’s member made him shudder, and he shifted, picking up Winston and seating the boy on his lap.

He lifted up the boy’s shirt and felt a hum of appreciation rise in his throat. The skin he saw before him was unblemished and pale, but for the fading tan lines.  So different from the omegas in the League, whom scarcely had a patch of skin that wasn’t marked by battle. Winston looked every bit the privileged and protected omega that Bane had seen in the Pit. Spotting the pink nipples that hardened due to the sudden change in temperature made Bane lick his lips beneath his mask.

Later, he was going to blindfold Winston and suck on those small nubs until the omega sobbed beneath him.

For now, Bane ran his hands from the boy's soft face to his warm stomach. The smooth sensation of a soft omega body was something that Bane suddenly realized he had craved for a while. As well as the faint whimpers that emerged from Winston as his calloused hands ran over his hard sensitive nipples.

Now, he was ready to see the rest of Winston.

As Bane helped the omega shuffle off his pants, he was distracted by a soft cry. He turned his head to see that Haji had already torn off the woman’s shirt and was laving his tongue across her breasts. The cry appeared to originate from Haji’s habit of nipping.

The sight only furthered Bane’s arousal. He quickly slipped the underwear off alongside the pants. What he saw between Winston’s legs made him laugh.

“What joke is this, little one?”

Winston’s cock was enveloped in a strange device. Like a cage, but entrapping his penis. It was secured into place by a small lock, at the base of Winston’s balls.

“Ah, I see that you enjoy making things difficult for me already. No matter...”

Bane reached down to inspect the device closer when he felt a hand slap his away. Bane looked up, confused. Winston looked at him, confused as well.

“What are you doing?” They both asked each other at the same time.

They blinked simultaneously. 

Winston spoke again.

“Is, is this your fetish? Having an uncaged cock? I mean, I’ve heard of that somewhere, but our organization never allows omegas to go out without their chastity devices. It’s not proper work ethic if I’m distracted while making you feel good.”

Bane looked at Winston stunned. He lifted Winston off his lap, placing him on the seat beside him and looked at him directly in the eyes.

 “Wait. Hold on a moment. Are you- Are you telling me that this is _normal_?”

Winston looked at Bane as if he was insane. “Yeah! It’s normal in hookers just like how it’s normal for every omega. We’re not that different, man.”

Bane felt nauseous. “Y-you, every omega wears these things? Not just prostitutes? You are not permitted to have your penises out?”

Winston looked like he was prepared to indulge Bane in a long explanation. “Yeah.”

Bane looked at Winston’s eyes again. “You cannot orgasm? How long has this been occurring? Why!?”

Winston began explaining patiently, likely convinced that Bane was a simpleton or an idiot. Horrified, Bane listened to the history of omegas being fitted with their own chastity devices in their young teen years, orgasms being unnecessary for procreation, and how preventing masturbation stopped sexual addiction.

“But just because we can’t cum like you alphas doesn't mean that we’re just laying there taking what you’re dishing out! Omegas experience something called a _paroxysm_ , but everyone just calls it milking. It feels really good for us too, if you’re one of those people who can’t get off unless your partner does too…”

How could he not know this? With all the books and lectures he had attended upon educating him on the ways outside the League? Bane was sure that he had read at least one book pertaining to social customs outside the League.

“Winston, you Americans are… not very public with this information on the treatment of omegas are you?”

Winston laughed, patting Bane on the arm. “Of course not. America has always had pretty strict publishing and distribution laws, especially concerning sex and omegas. Hell, that’s the entire reason why we have the censorship movement nowadays. They’re pretty sick of not being allowed to talk or see how omega sex works unless it’s in the confines of a doctor’s office.”

“What about alphas? Are they fitted with this device as well?” Bane asked faintly. Winston laughed again.

“Of course not! You’re not wearing one, are you? Alphas can’t control their urge to mate, and if they orgasm they make babies.”

Bane shook his head. It was almost too much to process.

He looked over at the others, focusing on the others. Winston wasn’t lying. One of the women had her skirt off, and Bane could see her wearing undergarments that exposed her entrance but covered her clitoris. One of the omega male prostitutes was currently bouncing on someone’s cock on the coffee table, his member encompassed by the same device Winston wore. Bane could see the boy’s cock within the cage, bulging outside of the gaps within the cage, by all the appearances desperately wishing to extend but unable to due to the constricting cage.

It would appear that even though an omega cock was locked away, they still functioned normally. That was good. Bane could use this information to his own advantage.

Bane looked at Winston. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

Winstone looked at him, still amused by his initial surprise. “Alright.”

Bane took Winston by the hand and led him to his bedroom. He took off Winston’s shirt, leaving him naked. He looked down at the prostitute.

“I’m going to blindfold and restrain you now.”

Winston shrugged. “It’s your money man. You guys paid for the three hours of service. But er, please don’t murder and kill me ok? I just want some cash to pay for tuition and textbooks this year.”

Bane chuckled and flicked the boy’s upturned nose.

“It will be fine little one,” Bane replied. “I will be removing my mask, that is the only reason.”

Winston looked closely at the mask that Bane wore. Then he nodded.

Bane took one of the scarves off the floor and bound the boy's eyes. He then found some clean rope in his duffel bag and fastened Winston’s arms to the bedposts. Not too hard, or restricting, but enough to ensure that Winston could not grab at him or remove his blindfolded. He gave Winston’s legs the same treatment. 

Bane stood up and looked over Winston. He was happy to find that Winston was semi-hard already, relaxing on the bad. Bane had been waiting for this opportunity to tie up an omega for some time. The League’s omegas would have never consented to those restraints, but now Bane was able to act out a fantasy he had possessed since he was an adolescence, since that night when he was tied down.

Bane dug around his utility bag and pulled out a lockpick. He began to work on the device between Winston’s legs.

“ _H-hey_! What are you doing?”

“If you allow me to remove your chastity device, I will pay you an additional seven hundred on top of the fee you receive tonight. You will not have to give that tip to your employers.”

Winston immediately quieted down.

The lock was flimsy and opened in no time at all. Carefully removing the device, Bane saw the small, unaroused cock between Winston’s legs and felt a stir of pity for the poor boy. Observing closer, he was surprised to see that Winston was circumcised as well. 

It was most likely a decision based on Winston’s parents, a cultural practice, or another method of preventative measures against sexually transmitted illnesses considering Winston’s occupation. But after learning how brutally cities treated their omegas, he was definitely taking the opportunity to clarify something he was already beginning to suspect about why Winston was cut.

“Winston?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You are circumcised.”

Winston emitted a little laugh beneath him. “Er, yeah. I am. Nice observation there.”

“Why did it happen?”

“I-it’s another measure to prevent sexual addiction. Every male omega baby goes through the operation when they’re born. Though to be honest, if you didn’t know about the whole chastity cage thing, you probably wouldn’t nuh-know about this...”

Bane closed his eyes and gripped the sheets hard between his hands. He was ready to storm out of the bedroom, go straight into the nearest hospital and kill somebody. But it was nothing short of what the League and Pit had already taught him. The world was corrupt and cruel. The strong prevailed over the weak, the stupid, and with that, the strong could do whatever they wished to those who lay beneath their feet.

And now, Bane’s greatest desire was to see Winston cum first solely with his cock, and then cum again with his cock when he was knotted by Bane. Bane had his own desires, and he intended to go through with them. Especially now when Winston was at his mercy.

Besides, Winston was a paid sex worker to carter to his whims. Bane did not have the free reign to do whatever to wished (like to an omega prisoner) nor did he have to show Winston the same measure of reverence and respect he did to an omega within the League.

He grabbed some lubricant from the bedside table, slathered a generous amount within his hand, and placed it down on Winston’s cock. The small gasp that came out of the boy’s throat made Bane smile behind his mask.

“Oh, oh! Tha-that feels very…”

Bane stroked carefully, making sure that the lubricant had the opportunity to warm up and taking into consideration Winston’s oversensitivity. The slickness stroked over the omega’s cock gently, minimizing any friction that may prove too much for him.

In no time at all, the boy was at full mast in Bane’s hand, squirming on the bed and thrusting up whenever Bane’s pace was too slow for him.

“Please, please sir! Please stop!”

Bane looked at the writhing omega, squeezing the base and using his other hands to gently massage the balls. Winston’s legs clamped together as he moaned.

Bane begin moving faster, occasionally slowing down when he heard the noises turn into pained ones. Winston stopped begging for Bane to stop and seemed to be more focused on his own cock. He began writing, from his toes gripping the sheets beneath him, and his breathing deeply, his chest falling and rising rapidly. Bane saw this and was suddenly reminded of what he had wanted.

Bane took a deep breath of the anesthetic gas behind his mask before he expertly removing it. His mouth had already been watering the instant he saw Winston mewl and writhe beneath him, and he immediately placed his mouth on the omega’s nipple, biting one pink num between his teeth and giving it a suck, as hard as his mangled mouth permitted him.

Winston emitted a shuddering cry, trying to drag his sensitive chest away from Bane’s mouth as his cock twitched in distress in Bane’s hand. Unfortunately, his restraints did not permit him to stray far. 

Bane didn’t stop licking, sucking, and nibbling at Winston until the previously pink nubs were a startling shade of dark rose. He took his mask, took another deep inhale of the anesthetic, returned to Winston, and began to move down.

Winston clutched his knees together, whimpering as he felt Bane’s mouth gently alternate between kisses and nibbles move from his chest to his belly button, and eventually above his cock. Bane slowly pried apart Winton’s knees, exposing the omega’s slick, hardened cock to the room.

“ _Oh, Bane… please… please I…_ ”

When Bane took the omega down his throat, he felt a familiar instinct rise, the primitive, alpha part of him that was determined to be the best, coo at the keening squeal the omega beneath him emitted.

 

* * *

 

John sat at the cheap plastic table across from his newest foster father. He glared to the side, refusing to meet the alpha’s eyes.

“John. I am at the end of my fucking rope with you, you hear me? THE END! OF MY **FUCKING** **ROPE**!”

John barely even looked at the man. It took more than screaming to get a reaction out of him now. As it was, John only saw more evidence of what a spineless prick his newest “dad” was.

“John, what the fuck were you thinking!? I had to leave work early to get to school only to hear that you broke a kid’s nose. Somebody’s _nose_! What the hell is the matter with you? Aren’t you an omega!?”

John stiffened at that. He hated it. Hated it when people assumed you were automatically a wuss when you were born an omega. 

Derrick, that was the name of the newest kid who had assumed John was weak and wanted him to kiss his alpha ass. But he never saw the fist that John threw out and smashed against his gloating face.

John noticed a flash of movement and suddenly felt a large hand slam against his face so hard he tumbled from his chair. John looked up, the entire right side of his face numb, seeing his foster father’s red gleaming face.

“Don’t you dare ignore me, pup! I haven’t an issue beating some manners into you!”

John glared back, biting his lower lip to hold back the torrent of swears and language he wanted to heap on this  _prick hole_. His vision blurred, eyes involuntary filling with tears from the awful sting on his cheek that was beginning to settle in.

The man began removing his belt. The gleam of the metal caught in the cheap fluorescent light in the kitchen. John looked around him. The doors were locked, and the windows were caged. Even if he ran, he wouldn’t get far. And though his “dad” was weak, he was a fully grown alpha male. John couldn’t fight his way out of this one.

John suddenly had a premonition that he was going to see Father Reilly soon.

It was funny. He wasn't even that scared anymore. He didn’t cry or want his mommy or daddy. He just felt a deep sense of agony, pain that was wrapped in plastic at the bottom of his stomach. He chest hurt, and he had trouble breathing.

His foster father walked slowly toward John with his belt, John closed his eyes and tucked his head under his arms and went into his secret space inside his mind. Where there was no pain, or screaming, and a place where even his parents were alive and happy.

He almost didn’t even feel the belt smashing unto his defenceless back. 

And after that, he didn’t remember anything at all.

 

* * *

 

Bane met Barsad as he was dragged screaming into the base that housed the League of Shadows. The man had gone half-insane from his journey to their base in Tibet, the arduous climb up the mountain had nearly completed its job. The guards outside had spotted a man wrapped in a cloak speaking to himself as he banged on the doors, demanding to be let in. But when they went to meet him, he immediately began fighting as though his life depended on it.

Impressively enough, he not only managed to strike one of them but nearly shot a guard with his concealed firearm. Ra’s Al Ghul met with him, stared into his pallid face and determined that the man had potential.

Bane was tasked with watching over Barsad, to ensure that his instability did not injure himself or others outside of training. Privately, Bane believed that Ra’s wanted to make sure that should Barsad not become the warrior Ra’s had proclaimed him to be, he could pin the blame on Bane. Regardless, Bane took on the assignment he was given.

Barsad managed to recover states of his mind as the weeks went on. And Bane began to gather an understanding of why Ra’s seemed so eager for the man to join. He was surly, bad-tempered, snappish, and cunningly intelligent. His talent lay in firearms, and his smaller alpha frame was something new and deadly even to the experienced fighters within the League.

Maybe that was what made him different. What made him the first person that Bane was interested in knowing since Talia. The fact that he belonged in neither category, but kept all their strongest attributes.

Barsad did not speak to others, and even the curious omegas avoided him, disliking his terrible attitude. Barsad had no real respect for social order, but neither did he actively disrupt it. He remained apart from it all. He did not speak with others, eat with them or interact beyond what he was obligated to.

Sometimes Bane believed he was a ghost, determined to train and harden himself before moving on. But his close proximity and watch over the man ensured that even if Barsad did not want to, he would still reveal parts of himself to Bane’s gaze.

As Barsad continued training and living with them, Bane quietly observed. Beginning to catch snippets of Barsad that made the man more whole, and less of an apparition. Speaking with the man at meals, during training, before sleep, in the morning. Slowly, but surely, Bane assembled the pieces of Barsad’s sad, sad tale.

Barsad had originally resided within Russia. He was involved in the militia and had made the mistake of loving a certain alpha with all his bitter, black heart. She was beautiful, fierce, and everything he had ever wanted in a mate. Neither of them cared for the strict laws that dictated that neither of could be with each other. They did not want omega mates. Only each other.

So they bonded and moved away. They had a little girl as a result of the union. A rare occurrence, considering the female alpha biology. And everything was perfect until Barsad’s enemies found out.

He went off on a long mission, deliberately structured by his foes to keep him blind and unaware of the events occurring at home. And when he returned, he found his wife torn into pieces, her scattered remains only a few feet from the still smoking home. It was impossible to even tell what had finally killed her, so numerous the violations were. And his daughter: gone. Most likely trafficked and sold. Therefore, as good as dead.

They had tried to kill him too, so sure that his crippling grief would lead to an easy capture. It was not enough that Barsad’s family was dead. They needed to publicly torture and execute him. To teach others what would happen if they indulged in their perversions as Brasad did. But they did not anticipate his skill and intelligence in the face of adversary.

Barsad dedicated himself to killing everyone and everything that destroyed his world. And when he was surrounded by a mountain of corpses, his enemies composing around him; he realized he had nothing left except for his anger.

But Barsad had been a good mercenary. He had long heard whispers of a secret society that transformed the broken men that went there into machines of war. That fought against the world for natural order. Barsad went on this journey, confident that he would either die or be reborn. Both were fine.

After Barsad relayed the entirety of his journey to Bane, he simply stared at the fire in their hearth. Bane did not apologize. He did not offer his condolences or say anything. Bane simply sat beside Barsad at the foot of the fire until it went out.

Any mission after that, Bane made sure to leave opportunities for Barsad to learn and adapt. He watched Barsad’s back, guarded him against any other alphas and pushed him harder than any other opponent he ever had. Eventually, Bane had gained enough leverage within the League to take Barsad on another particular mission. One that involved eliminating any loose ends or men that had previously escaped Barsad’s wrath in his past life.

Ra’s would not have approved of what Bane did. He would have told the two men that Barsad’s previous life was dead. That there was nothing left.

But Bane needed to see how Barsad would act in the worst possible hell he would ever experience. He needed to test Barsad one last time to see if he was truly the man Bane knew he could be.

Barsad’s enemies were defeated easily. Between Bane’s indomitable force and Barsad’s knowledge, they were helpless. Bane did not retain any pleasure through shooting, breaking, or torturing them. But he felt happy at the sight of Barsad, the man visibly deteriorating as the days wore on.

With the hope of discovering some answers.

Bane did not see Barsad’s impending breakdown as something negative. Rather, he was excited at the prospect of seeing something come out. To see if there was anything, possibly anything else the already so interesting man was concealing from him.

They found his daughter too eventually. Four weeks after beginning their mission. Bane was present when Barsad dug the small unmarked grave to gently lower her emancipated form into.  They stood in silence before the mound of hard dirt. Bane left Barsad there, standing at a distance, making sure that nobody snuck up on the man while he grieved.

Barsad knelt at his daughter's grave for an entire night. When Barsad walked back to Bane in the morning, Bane did not remark upon the man’s red-rimmed eyes. Instead, on the journey back to the base, Bane told Barsad of his days within the Pit. His time spent with Talia.

Bane was no longer concerned with opening up to Barsad. He had a feeling that he already saw the very core of the man. What made Barsad, Barsad.

After that, his relationship with the man changed. Barsad no longer looks at Bane as though he was another obstacle in his life. Barsad follows Bane’s orders without question, looking at the other man with security and determination. Their cooperation, especially as alphas, was rare, and scarcely anybody could believe that Bane had tamed Barsad.

In turn, Bane knew he did not “tame” Barsad in any sense of the word. He simply saw Barsad for who he was and introduced him to the world. In time, Bane also took Barsad before Talia and was proud to hear her tell him privately that she found him much more interesting and skilled than anyone before in the League. A worthy brother. As Ra’s Al Ghul eyes on him went from indifference to anger, to fear over the time he resided within the League’s base, Bane found that he was in need of followers.

Talia and he both knew that Bane’s time within the League was limited. And they both took the opportunity to make friends, to separate who was loyal to who. Between the two, Bane used to strength to gather alphas. And Talia used her intelligence to recruit omegas.

When Bane brought his proposal to Barsad, that he may soon leave the League and wanted the man to join him as his right-hand man, he half-expected the man to laugh him off.

Instead, Barsad had smiled at him and extended his hand out. Offering his services.

Bane had grinned back, taking the mans hand in his own.

 

* * *

 

It seemed that nobody had faith in John anymore, not even Father Reilly. As old as he was, he doubted anybody wanted to take him in as a foster kid anymore. The only people that got into good homes or were adopted were kids younger than ten.

John felt his back itch, and he reached back, feeling the still scabby uneven skin, along with the rough prickly stitches. They were the result of that night in his foster father’s kitchen, where he was beaten so severely that the metal on the belt buckle and some parts of the leather had split the skin on his back and along with his ribs.

A neighbour had called the cops after reportedly heard John screaming. Though he did not recall doing that. In fact, he was completely blacked out from the pain when the police burst in, and he was rushed immediately to the emergency room. In total, he had 32 stitches on his back and some along his sides.

Recovery was a real bitch. He spent most of that time either sleeping, sleepily pressing the nurse alert button, or sweating in pain when he neglected to alert the nurse that he needed more painkillers. Bathing was agony, and every time he moved, he felt like his back didn’t even belong to him, like there a rigid mat slung across his shoulders, replacing his back, restricting his movements.

When he was finally allowed to gingerly crawl out of bed, he learned that his foster father got off the entire incident with a two thousand dollar fee and John’s basic hospital needs, excluding painkillers, on the grounds that John would _abuse the privilege_. Two thousand dollars was all the money that the foster system needed to completely dismiss the “incident”. Father Reilly had to beg from the church and the surrounding neighbourhood for donations to cover the rest of the hospitalization fees.

Of course, it was all on account of the fact that John was simply another troubled omega in the foster care system who was a danger to himself and everyone around him. His previous record in the foster care system displayed multiple cases of  “anger management” issues. There was nobody who could fault the alpha who had beaten John. Seeing as aggressive omegas needed to be properly disciplined. John suspected that the entire reason the man was punished in the first place was that in the process of nearly killing John, he had disrupted the neighbours.

After he had heard the news, he destroyed nearly everything in his hospital room. Smashed the vase and flowers, torn up the books, and even broke a window.

It obviously didn’t help the whole “troubled omega in the system who was a danger to himself and everyone around him” image, but as far as John was concerned, it was what they made him, so he might as well be.

But something kept him from following through down that path. Some odd beacon of hope that convinced him life was still worth living.

And its name was Batman.

He recalled a few months ago in Father Reilly’s orphanage. Where multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne had pulled up, in a fancy car and those beautiful models that sprawled across him.

When for a while, just a small time, Wayne had spent the day with them, laughing and playing games.

John remembered leaning against Bruce on their ratty couch inside the recreational room, exhausted from the running and laughing; and he felt a hand gently press against his head, its heavyweight a greater assurance than his chastity cage could ever be.

John had breathed in the warm smell of Wayne, and beneath the expensive cologne was the smell of familiar hot chocolate and Oreos. 

But also something else. Something darker and sadder that seemed to cling to everyone that lived in the boys home. Something that John smelled on himself everytime he focused. It was a cold smell that spoke of the fact that maybe everything wasn’t as good as it seemed.

But Wayne had a fortune and a home. Something that John could never have. Wayne had all the resources in the world, food, models, and other people to earn money for him. It was foolish to compare somebody like Bruce to him.

John straightened up, pulling himself out of self-pity. If nobody wanted to help him, that was fine. He didn’t want to be Bruce. He didn’t need him. He remembered Batman, the caped crusader.

John had survived this long by himself. And even if everyone and their mother was so convinced that John was another hopeless omega that needed saving or was irredeemable, then he’d prove them wrong for personal satisfaction. Because if Batman, just one man in this entire fucking city could make a difference, John was sure that he could protect at least this orphanage by himself.

He would ensure that there was never another omega boy who got beaten until he had to be hospitalized. Or another prick hole alpha who beat the weak and thought they were the shit. John would bring them down.

 

* * *

 

His excommunication was quiet, all things considered. He had barely bled during the attempted assassination. Unfortunately, Ra’s Al Ghul had his room implanted with an explosive, forcing Bane to quickly run before it took him with the room. He had jumped out the window and landed on the snow where he spent the entire night.

Barsad had come around the next morning to deliver to him supplies and unmarked cash. Barsad had initially wanted to go with Bane, but he had convinced the man to stay behind. Barsad needed to pass information to Bane, in case Ra’s attempted assassination did not placate him, but have him marked as a target for another attempt.

Bane was right. In a few short weeks, had he not received Barsad’s warning, he would have been caught in a trap and surely killed. Thankfully, he escaped. And Barsad assured him that Ra’s had finally lost interest.

His followers within the League were instructed to lay low and to follow Talia’s orders religiously. They were to take advantage of the League’s reach for as long as Ra’s remained ignorant, and join him if they were caught.

Bane was now residing within a safehouse in Iraq, working as a mercenary. He had a steady stream of clients, as well as a part-time position on the dictator’s army. He had recently finished slaughtering a group of dissidents and was ready to retire for the day. Right now, he was sitting on his couch reading. He then received a phone call from Talia.

Six hours ahead of schedule.

“Hello, Talia.”

“Bane…” Talia’s voice was shaky and furious, causing Bane to straighten up. Talia rarely allowed her voice to communicate her emotions. And the fact that she did not, or simply neglected to control herself meant that something was gravely wrong.

“Bane; my father is dead. Bruce Wayne has killed him.”

“When?” He asked.

“It was at Gotham. That-that wretched city! And Bruce Wayne. My father’s own pet project killed him. I would laugh at the irony.”

Bane remained silent. He never had any affection for the man that scorned him based on his own personal emotions. But perhaps his death may weigh on Talia. That was unacceptable.

“Do you need me back?”

“Yes. I’m the leader of the League now. I must admit, Bane; I was never fond of father, especially when he excommunicated you. But now that he’s gone…”

Talia trailed off. Bane waited patiently.

“I did not love him. At all. But he was my father, and I must honour him. So now, it is time to begin the process of finishing what my father was not able to.”

Talia sighed. Her voice became steady, hypnotic. Bane even heard a hint of her old, beckoning purr. 

“Come home, Bane. It is the beginning of the true end of Gotham.”


	2. The Claim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I endorse nothing that happens in this work of fiction.

The takeover of Gotham took place much faster than John even had time to blink. It had not even occurred to him that the occupation was underway, not even when Bane gave that shit-speech at the stadium. It had hit him in a certain way though. Through the numerous bombs planted in the city. He had missed that particular shit-speech in favour of driving like a madman to save Gordon. 

No, it was the instant that Bane blew open a hole in Blackwell Prison, that was the moment John knew that he, this entire city, and everyone in it were royally fucked. Especially after learning that Gordon and Batman had founded the entire Gotham criminal justice system on a white lie.  

It was tempting to give in to the anger, desperation and depression he felt at the revelation that the fanatical terrorist onscreen had unveiled. But he knew that however dastardly the lie that Gordon lived, it was all for the sake of the people. The real enemy Bane; had taken over Gotham through brute force and fear. And preparations had to be taken. Gordon was still recovering, and the scattered cops that had not fallen into Bane’s traps had to be mobilized. 

John spent the first few days furiously gathering food, supplies, and any other necessities one needed during a damn siege. He and Gordon barely slept during the time, unable to rest hearing the screams and explosions echoing throughout the city. The two soon abandoned John’s condo, and made their way to Gordon’s apartment, quietly packing his family into a van that John had hotwired outside his apartment, where they then drove off to one of Gordon’s safehouses.

It was a dark building located in Arkham City, cramped and innocuous, surrounded by all the other dark buildings that never seemed to receive a new coat of paint. As soon as he was settled, John finally sent the word out to any other cops that he could find. 

The other men gathered to Gordon’s side, eager to receive any instructions at all to deal with the crisis. Gordon directed some personally himself but sent most of them to John to receive instructions. John found himself in a position of authority and reliability that scarcely anybody had shown him. Even Foley, the jackass who had once mumbled that John had received his promotion through being a “ _spoiled, privileged, pity mongering weakling_ ” and “ _spreading his dirty omega legs_ ” had remained quiet when John advised that everyone go out to gather as many supplies as possible.  John couldn't even enjoy his newfound respect among his alpha peers. The price that it took for them all to arrive at this stage was far too much. Being harassed at work was better than seeing corpses in the street.

It took about a week for the shock to wear off, and for things to really go down the crapper. Looting, violence, rape, and deaths were rampant. John and his peers found themselves being hunted down like dogs, especially after one patrol was caught in the open. After shooting holes into them, criminals seemed to develop a real taste for not only the thrill of killing them but the pleasure of finding them too. Any cop caught in the open would be brutally slaughtered.

Gordon and John quickly found that the hierarchy in Gotham’s “new established order” from bottom to top were petty criminals, looters, Blackgate prisoners and finally; Bane’s mercenaries. The ones that had started it all, the fire that was steadily burning through Gotham.

Most of Gotham’s native criminals took heavy advantage of the distributed guns and lawlessness that ran throughout the city. They were responsible for the loud and flashy crimes, the explosions that ran throughout the night. Bane’s mercenaries were different. 

Instead of tearing down the streets, they travelled quietly in tanks or trucks. They did not contribute to the heavy looting, but for the rare exceptions. As far as John and Gordon’s network were able to observe, the only things they took were food, water, and weaponry. 

But these men caused more damage than any criminal could. They were not fooled into believing that all the police were trapped below ground. They knew, and the acted accordingly. And most brutally.

John felt a sinking feeling in his chest as he and a few others reviewed security footage of the police group sent on a task to retrieve medication. They were caught before they had even reached the stop, and forced to kneel on the street, in front of a gas station.

John watched with his jaw set as his peers were shot twice in the head. Out of the five, four were killed.

The remaining survivor was dragged by the back of his neck and into those massive patrol trucks that Bane’s men drove. They shut the door and disappeared.

John buried his head in his hands. Gordon sighed behind him.

“That was Jake. He’s an omega.”

John looked at him. “Do you think there’s a connection? So far we’ve only had two confirmed reports of omegas being captured by men who fitted the mercenaries description, maybe it’s a-”

Gordon gave him a pitying look. “You don’t believe in coincidences anymore, remember? What reason do you think bloodthirsty terrorists with no morals or scruples would get out of kidnapping omegas? You get one guess.”

John felt his mouth dry. “We have to help them.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

But it was useless. Wherever those caught ended up, it was fruitless to try and follow them. John was nearly shot twice attempting to track a tank. Those damn bastards were far too observant for their own good.

John knew at the back of his mind that those omegas were dead, or most optimistically, likely being assaulted. It weighed heavily on him, his own status as an omega only being part of the reason why he felt so down in the dumps. Every day, more news of tragedy, death, and misery greeted him, from the moment he woke up to the second he passed out in his cot in Gordon’s tiny hideaway. John didn’t even have anyone left above the surface that he felt comfortable talking to about these things, and he spent a lot of his breaks with Father Reilly. Hell, it was probably the most time he spent with the priest in a while. 

At St. Swithins, Father Reilly was carefully instructing all the children to never leave the shelter, under any circumstances. John was unhappy to tell the kids about the state of the outside world, but the lesson needed to stick. And as for the older boys who had to scavenge for rations, John made damn sure that no omega was to be left unescorted. 

John was positive that if someone from the boys home went missing, particularly if it was one of the younger ones, he would go insane. St. Swithins was the one place he could at least delude himself into thinking was out of Bane’s reach. He blamed his instincts for clinging so tightly to a home, one that he had long moved out of. But maybe it was normal to want just one safe space in this entire goddamn fucking place. Because God knew, there were no friendly places left.

John felt sick to his stomach as he recalled once going on a gasoline run, harvesting whatever gas he could from wrecked cars to bring back to Gordon, and walking past a group of Blackgate alphas, who didn’t seem to have an issue grabbing at their crotch and licking their lips at the direction John went. He was tempted to throw the gas down on the ground, pull out his piece and unload a few rounds into their smug faces.

But he was powerless. If he revealed his cover and got killed as a result of that, he didn’t trust that anybody would look after the orphanage as attentively as he did. And John wasn’t ready to die. Not by a long shot. He had survived this long. 

As the weeks wore on, the food began to steadily diminish. John was suddenly glad of his habit of hoarding food, cultivated through his upbringing. But his stash at home wouldn't last forever. Was this Bane’s plan? To watch the city slowly drift off through a slow and painful starvation?

Thankfully not. Gotham was notified by “The Representatives” that they would have food and other such necessities delivered to them by Emergency Relief. Evidently, the rest of the world was happy to see Gotham under siege, but not starve. John was angry that he felt grateful for the supplies, but ensuring that Gordon’s men, the kids, and himself were fed enough to survive to fight another day was more important than his pride.

Bane’s mercenaries were the ones who distributed food rations among neighbourhoods. John didn’t even know why he had suspected any differently. It was just another one of the terrorist power games to show the city that they were in charge. One of those Emergency Relief trucks was parked thankfully near St. Swithin’s, so John didn’t have to walk too far. But even as it was, he had to employ some of the older boys to help him carry the large boxes full of rations and basic supplies to tide them over for the week. John would have preferred some other help besides kids, but at this stage, everyone was out for themselves.

His position at the boys home was established as a social worker. John was just another down-on-his-luck former orphan who helped others out of the goodness of his heart. Father Reilly had initially suggested he disguise himself as a priest, which had dragged the first snort out of John since the occupation began. 

He had a cover, and a great excuse to observe and gather information on the men that delivered their food. John had recognized even one of them from the Blackgate prison outbreak broadcast at one delivery. 

They wore the same clothes, with the red scarves, the bulletproof vest, and carrying heavy weaponry. John didn’t think they even needed to coordinate their wardrobe. It was the look in their eyes and the expression on their faces that seemed eerily similar. 

John had seen them push people off buildings, shoot others into literal pieces, and torture prisoners into insanity out on the street. They rarely ever hid their involvement in such things, making sure that anything they did had witnesses. 

John felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine every single time he saw them. It wasn’t enough to make John afraid of them or to not fight if necessary. But it was an emotional response that a hardened Gotham cop like him shouldn’t have had to experience at this point. Frankly, it pissed him off.

John suspected that those mercenaries also suspected he was a cop. They spent time observing him more than the others that lined up for food. Maybe it was something about his mannerisms. 

John was a good actor, his years in the foster care system ensured that. But there were some things that just couldn’t be contained. So John had tried to act the standard ditzy omega once before one of those men burst into laughter at his speech. He got his first full sentence from Bane’s men that day.

“Don’t bother Gothamite. Nobody is that stupid unless they’re hiding something.”

The man had slipped him a grin that hid razors. John gave him an equally cutting smile back, before yanking the box out of the man’s hand and stalking away stiffly. It pissed him off, even more, when the mercenary behind him emitted mockingly wounded noises, and the others around him chuckled. 

Deliveries were the one full day that John got to spend with the kids. It was preferable to running around in the streets, desperately trying to take down a steady stream of criminals that never seemed to diminish in numbers. John felt worse for Gordon; the man was practically vibrating in his sickbed, full of energy and anger at the suffering that went on and on around him.

The next delivery was different. Instead of those mercenaries looking bored, they instead seemed alert and more on edge. That morning, all packages were shoved out of the car at a smooth and undisturbed rate, John was confused until he saw who was leaning against the truck, looking disturbingly out of place while sipping on a box of brightly coloured orange juice.

_ Jesus Christ, that’s Barsad. _

It took the GPCD weeks to even learn the man’s name. Weeks of stalking terrorists, listening in on their conversations, and bribing Blackwell prisoners to ask questions for them. In the efforts of getting all the information they could on Bane, it was not surprising that they discovered his second in command too.

But the real kicker was that the man was simply just as elusive as Bane. He was a damn weasel, physically and information wise. Barsad’s orders were normally transmitted _four separate times_ before reaching any of the men that John interacted with. Barsad remained so close to Bane that nobody even knew where the two were half the time. But here he was. Just out in the open. 

John slowed his breathing. Fine then. Here was a good opportunity. The fact that Barsad was here was the greatest lead John could have at finding Bane.

He simply needed to act as fucking normal as he could be. Make sure that Barsad didn’t sense something was off. As soon as he was done dropping off his supplies he could either follow Barsad or attach a tracker to the vehicle. 

John stood in line with two of the eager alpha boys that had volunteered to go with him that morning. John made sure to tone his mood up, acting the part of the man who helped take care of the children. When they reached the front of the line, Barsad made a direct line toward them.

_ Oh shit. _

The mercenary that had been distributing the food immediately stood up and gave his seat to Barsad, where he then backed off immediately. _Jesus, John was so fucked._

Barsad did not sit. He stood in front of John, staring down the man. John felt his mouth go dry again, this time his hands and face began sweating. He resisted the urge to start shuffling and wringing his hands too.

“What’s your name?” Barsad asked.

John swallowed as inconspicuously as he could, working up a normal voice. But not too normal. These men were killers, some fear was perfectly natural, right? “M-my name’s Elliot Johnson.”

Barsad reached out a hand. “ID. Now.”

John reached into his pocket and thanked his lucky stars that Gordon had all his necessary fake documentation drawn up. Barsad snatched the card from John before he had even had the chance to hold it up. John was surprised at the size of Barsad’s hands. The man had seemed so intimidating and sullen onscreen. But now that he was standing before John…

_ He’s a lot… smaller than I thought. Slim, but toned. Intelligence indicated that he was an alpha, but Jesus Christ. Is he really? _

Barsad looked over the fake. He then looked up at John.

“An omega as a child worker. How… _appropriate_.”

John blinked back. 

_ Trying to piss me off to reveal my cover? Cute. _

Barsad handed John’s card back to him. John took it and felt Barsad deliberately swipe his fingers over John’s. This time, John felt his face harden in a barely concealed snarl. If Barsad noticed, he gave no indication. 

“We’ve been looking for an omega cop who fits your description. He did not join the others in the tunnels.”

John felt that familiar shiver, alongside a warmth in his stomach that appeared at a job well done. “Well, what did he do?” _God, why did I ask that? Am I stupid?_

Barsad casually slipped a knife from his thigh and began examining his nails. John stiffened and quickly checked the two boys behind him. They were not too close. If things started going south, John was sure that he could at least make sure that those two made it out alive.

“This particular man is a traitor against Gotham. He was seen killing two of our men and is currently harbouring another traitor he saved from justice. A man by the name of Jim Gordon.”

Oh yeah. John knew that they were after him now. Fuck.

“Well, sure hope you find that man quick. For better days for us innocents.”

Barsad slipped the knife back into its sheath. He looked into John’s eyes. 

“I can assure you. There are no better days ahead.”

Barsad turned to the men behind him. “Get these Gothamites their supplies.”

John felt the heavy packages shoved against his chest, and a few other packages were dropped into the arms of the boys who walked up from behind him.

Barsad walked around to the back of the truck and took out a few candy bars.

He turned back to John and slipped one down the front of his jacket pocket.

For the first time, John saw the man smile at him. It was worse than the questioning.

 

* * *

 

Bane surveyed the entire city from the window of one of the numerous skyscrapers that surrounded Gotham. The entire building was cleared out and emptied by the criminals he had unleashed. Outside, Gotham smouldered. Fire and smoke rising.

Bane was content to simply stand and enjoy the sight of the terror he had unleashed upon the city that had killed Ra’s. He was happy that he had played such a phenomenal role in Talia’s plan, in taking over the city that had killed the man who was convinced he was a monster. He knew Bruce was seeing his beloved city crumbling, and it only sweetened the victory further.

Talia had been euphoric. Bane had offered to employ a full-on assault at the location where Talia hid with Lucius Fox and all the rest that had escaped his grasp. She had refused, on the principle that their suffering was far too enjoyable to be cut short. And besides. As long as Bruce’s closest friends remained safe, while countless others were getting hurt and dying; it would grate on Bruce’s consciousness further. No, Jim, Lucius and the others would live until all of Gotham was swallowed up in flame.

Bane was still uncomfortable at the thought of her alone in that place. The rations that his men distributed to the citizens residing within Gotham were first picked clean of everything valuable, before handing over the least desirables.

It was childish and silly, but Bane wanted to see Talia eat well, even while the occupation of Gotham was underway. But now that a few weeks had already passed, every potential escape was sealed tight. Bane was sure that by now, all there was left to do was wait.

He heard his communicator crackle. Picking it up, he pressed the button.

“What is it?”

A buzz. “It is I, brother. Barsad.”

Bane chuckled. “How goes the city today?”

“As it always does. Frightened and compliant. Though I may have met someone interesting.”

Oh? Barsad had met a person whom he did not despise upon sight? This was a rare occurrence.

“Who is it?”

“I believe I may have found the man known as John Blake. The man whom Bruce Wayne considered as his successor.”

Bane’s amusement faded away. 

“You have a location?”

“I have a building he frequents. An orphanage run by a man known as Father Reilly. Coincidentally, records have indicated that he may have lived there for some time.”

Bane sat down on a squeaky office chair.

Barsad continued after a short pause. “Right now he is still in the orphanage. But if I were to track him, I am sure that he will eventually make his way to where Gordon and the rest are hiding.”

Bane chuffed. “That does not matter at the moment. We already have an informant planted.”

“Then I suppose I’ll follow him to his current place of residence.”

Bane nodded to himself. “Do that, Barsad. And should this man be John Blake…” He trailed off. And chuckled. “You know what? I’m not even sure what to do with him myself. Should you shoot him? Capture him and torture him on camera? Lock him away and starve him to death? What should we do with this man?”

Barsad’s grin seemed to transmit through the communicator. “You should ask Talia. I am sure her imagination will conjure something gruesome for Blake.”

“As she does.”

“As she does.”

 

* * *

 

Bane made his way to the Orchid Hotel, where his men had transformed the previously majestic and elegant local into a base.

Bane had several such headquarters in Gotham, but the Orchid was special. It was where Bane held the captured few that would serve a… special purpose later on down the line. Another method of solidifying his power and dominance among the alphas he led. 

News of Bane’s arrival had spread through the building, and Bane found himself standing before four captives, their clothes stripped away and simply kneeling before him in their undergarments. Bane was glad to see that they were not severely injured. They stared haplessly down at the ground, avoiding his gaze. 

Bane turned to the man who had brought them in. Bane recognized him as a newer recruit into the League. His name was Macee if memory served correctly. 

“How are they?”

The man before him shrugged. “Pretty healthy I’d say. They’re fed two meals a day, have access to clean water, and we normally let them up to the gym upstairs to exercise for at least an hour a day.”

Bane stopped before a female omega. He grabbed her by the chin and tilted her face up. She held a small whine at the back of her throat as he carefully examined her.

Marcee looked at Bane. “So when are they going to be available for the rest of us? I know you gave orders that we weren’t allowed to take bed warmers from Gotham, but these are different right? Nobody’s going to touch them so long as you order us not to, but the anticipation is getting a little high, sir.”

Bane hummed, letting the woman go. “Soon. Tell the others to continue performing well. Prizes are meant to be distributed after all.”

Bane stepped away. “Lock them back into their rooms. I want to see how you fortified the rest of the building.”

Macee took Bane for a quick trip around the building. Everything seemed to be well-maintained, they had kept the original staff through guaranteeing them rations and board, though only betas. The rooms themselves were clean, and the doors were replaced with new locks.

Bane examined the door and its lock. “Have they been reinforced?”

Macee nodded. “These locks don’t pick easily, even with proper tools. And if these omegas were strong enough to break down a door with their bare hands, the noises alone would alert us.”

Bane made a noise of acknowledgement. “Tell me Macee. How has your interaction with these Gothamites been?”

Macee stroked his chin, eyes narrowed in thought.

“Different from home. Not as strong, but definitely better than the snivelling shits in the streets. Physically, they’re attractive and intelligent enough. But I wouldn’t bond with any of them, especially if they can’t even fight me off.”

Bane looked down the hall, walking toward the lobby. “Tell the others that the games will start soon.”

 

* * *

 

John stood with the other cops and Wayne Enterprise board members in the abandoned community centre as Lucius Fox began detailing to the group exactly how devastating the “bomb” would now be. Bane had estimated that the bomb would implode within five months, with a blast radius of six miles. Whatever left of Gotham after that would certainly not be Gotham.

John stood beside Gordon, already having listened to this lecture yesterday. He spent his time observing others, exhausted and bored.

He noticed Miranda Tate staring curiously at him. He gave a tired smile in response, and she did as well. He wondered how she felt at the bomb that she had helped create being the one to destroy the city. 

John felt a small stir of pity. Tate looked like the kind of person who had never worked a day in their life, but being responsible for potentially killing millions? That was probably the kind of pain and stress a few select people on the planet ever felt.

After the meeting, John approached her. She looked at him and smiled. “Hello, detective.”

John swallowed, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe it was because it had just hit him how attractive Tate was. “Ma’am, you can just call me John.”

“And you may call me Miranda.”

John shuffled his feet like a boy. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. Miranda started as if sensing John’s hesitation. 

“I’ve heard from the others that you were volunteering at an orphanage.”

John relaxed, the conversation veering toward familiar territory.

“Y-yeah, you know boys. Especially at a volatile time like this, they really need an extra pair of hands.”

Miranda tilted her head. “How exactly do you help?”

“Well, really just grunt work. The man who works there, Father Reilly, he’s a little frail to be doing a lot of the heavy lifting, as are most of the children. I help them fix anything that needs to be fixed and pick up rations for them from the Emergency Relief trucks too.”

Miranda’s eyes gleamed as he said that. John had a small niggling feeling about that, but it could have been that he just noticed how low her top was. He could see the top of her voluptuous breasts, even with her coat on. He decided to take the pause to initiate a question that he had been pondering for a while. 

“I guess I just wanted to see how you were doing. I mean, nobody's really doing well, but you…”

“Me being partially responsible for the bomb about to destroy Gotham? It has been stressful, yes, but I, Lucius and the others are discussing measures to be taken.”

John huffed. “I hope my question didn’t insult you, Miranda.”

She tilted her head again and narrowed her eyes are him. Her lips slowly curled into a cheshire grin. John definitely felt something in him jump at the sight.

“ _How polite._ ” She hummed.

John could already smell the familiar scent. Hot chocolate and Oreos.

_ Oh God, she’s an alpha? I gotta be careful here, I could accidentally fall in love.  _

“I-it’s been lovely talking with you ma’am, I-I have t-to go-”

She reached out, lightly touching John’s cheek with a cool hand. He resisted the urge to swoon.

“Be safe, John.” She murmured.

John nodded and nearly ran away.

He found Gordon. The man was looking curiously at John. “What were you doing talking to Miranda?”

John shrugged. “Just felt a little bad for her, that’s all. I mean, at least Lucius has intel on how the bomb works, and how to stop it. I’m pretty sure Miranda just owns the company by name. And now she’s stuck in Gotham because of it.”

Gordon chuckled. “Is that all son? Those are the reasons why she touched your cheek?”

John flushed. “Don’t read into it.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Miranda is a powerful alpha with good assets. If you marry her, you can be a good house husband. Have a few tiny Johns running around the estate.”

John groaned. “Now I know you’re fucking with me.”

Gordon tweaked his ear. “Only a little. Go home early today. Digest the same crappy news we’ve been swallowing for the past few weeks.”

John waved as he walked away. He saw many people still milling about in the community centre, Lucius and Gordon talking. Miranda was standing off to the side, holding a cell phone and speaking rapidly. 

That was no surprise. She probably had other business happening. 

John turned around and exited the building, beginning the walk home.

It was dark. But at least the street lights here still worked. 

There were no gangbangers or criminals here, though John could hear them making a ruckus over at Arkham now. The sky was clear, a rare smattering of stars, and John felt the best he had since the occupation.

Maybe he was finally getting back into the swing of things. 

Just as he reached the foot of his apartment to pick up some food to bring back to Gordon’s hideout, he hears a car screech to a stop behind him on the street.

Instinct propelled him to grab the gun concealed in his side, but just as he sung it around, he was wrestled to the ground. John felt a damp cloth slap over his nose and mouth. 

He struggled, punched, clawed and shrieked. But the drugs made his vision spin, and spin, and spin until there was nothing but black.

 

* * *

 

John knew he was tied in a moving truck.

He heard the murmur of people around him and felt the rumbling engine of the vehicle he was on. He shifted, the drugs in his system making the earth spin.

John felt a warm, calloused hand on his cheek.

“Stop moving.”

John paused. But began struggling anew. The voice that had spoken to him chuckled. 

“It’s easy to remain defiant now. Just wait until we pen you in with the others.”

John yelped as he felt those same hands grab his ear. They twisted and the unexpected pain made John emit a yowl.

“You feel this? In the days to come, I guarantee that you’ll beg for an ear-twisting rather than the things we’ll subject you to, John Blake.”

John gritted his teeth, the sharp pain helping him drag his way out of his drugged daze.

“I-I-I’ll _kill_ yu-you bastard…”

The hand returned to his cheek, rubbing and pinching. “I would genuinely enjoy seeing you try.”

The hand left his face and John was once again left lying there. His eyelids felt heavy, and the rhythmic noise of the truck alongside the background noise of voices speaking was like a lullaby to John.

Despite being stuck in that car, most likely being driven to his death, John found himself falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

John woke up through a hard slap to the face. He blearily blinked awake, the bright light in his eyes indicating that the blindfold on his face was gone.

Shocked, he stared up at the mercenaries who kidnapped him. They glared back.

“We’re going to escort you in now,” one of them spoke. “It would make things easier on all of us and make sure you lived longer as well if you did not struggle.”

John smiled viciously back. “Of course,” he replied sweetly. “Why would I make things harder for you?”

The journey from the car and the hotel room where they eventually deposited a screaming John consisted of:

  * John kicking one mercenary so hard in the balls they screamed
  * Biting someone’s fingers until he tasted blood
  * Biting another mercenaries hand
  * Biting his own lip by accident
  * Struggling so hard that they dropped John four times, each of those times where the mercenaries stared incredulously at John as he attempted to worm away.
  * Headbutting the man who carried him so hard that John’s vision swam



John had not escaped unscathed, unfortunately enough. He had received vicious punches in the side, and a kick at his side when he was finally thrown into a room that John saw on the door marked “Conference Room.”

Looking up he was pleasantly surprised.

“John! Oh my god!”

John quickly scrambled to his knees. “Jake?”

Jake, the captured omega that everyone had presumed dead, rushed to his side and began pulling on John’s ropes. As soon as John was freed, he captured the other man in a big bear hug.

“Jesus! Jake! I’m so glad you’re still alive!”

John stepped back, taking in the sight of the man before him. “What have they done to you?”

Jake looked down at himself as if scarcely believing that he was alive. “Nothing major, surprisingly. They keep us locked in our rooms, give us random books, feed us. Though there is an occasional beating for the escapee of the week.”

John heard someone chuckle. He looked up and saw that there were other occupants in the room. They all sat at the table in the centre of the room. The person who had chuckled was a woman with a large bruise on her cheek. Her right eye was swollen and there was a scabbed over cut on her lip.

She waved. “John, I assume? Welcome to our little _club_.”

John walked over to her. “Holy shit, lady.” He lifted his hand to appraise the damage but decided against it. She probably wouldn’t appreciate being touched, especially by a stranger. 

She rolled her eyes. “Christ, relax. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Jake cleared his throat behind John. “That’s Ellen. She’s the only female omega captive here. She tried to make a break yesterday when they walked us to the balcony.”

Ellen snorted. “Nearly made it too. Fucking Macee, fuck him right up his _fucking tight little hole_ , tackled me before I reached the exit.”  

Jake reached out and held her hand. “They beat you in front of us, Ellen.”

She yanked her hand away. “That wasn’t a fucking beating. He slapped my face a few times. I’ve had boyfriends who’ve done worse.”

John was sure that as soon as he met this “Macee” character he was going to rip his ear off with his teeth.

Jake sighed. “Might as well introduce you to the others.”

John spent the remainder of his time in that room learning the names of his now fellow captives. There was Ellen, a spitfire who had originated from Arkham City that must have had traditionalists clutching at their breast in shock at her unomega-like attitude. John liked her best. 

Jake was Jake. His normally pallid face was paler than usual. Quiet most of the time, even more so, as John remembered how he had seen his friends die around him. He spent a lot of time just staring off into space. But at least he was still responsive. 

Timothy was the youngest there. John swore that the boy was in his teens, but Timothy assured him that he was nineteen. He had gotten caught robbing the mercenaries apple cart, _literal_ apple cart. They had initially wanted to cut off his hand as punishment, but somebody had stepped in. Timothy didn’t know the man’s name.

Isaiah was the last captive, another captured cop. John was struck initially how pretty the man looked. His dark skin glowed even in the dull lighting of the office, and his cheekbones were quite high. Isaiah was a part of the operation that had been sent down to the tunnels to smoke Bane out. But when the bombs had gone off, he managed to dodge the debris and escape the trap. As he lay coughing on the road, in shock as he heard the screams of the people inside, he had been knocked out by a strike from behind. The next thing he knew, he was thrown into a cell, kept there for an indeterminate amount of time before being transferred here with the others.

As soon as introductions were done, John sat with the others in the darkroom in silence.

John broke the silence. “Do any of you have any idea what’s going to happen to us?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Impossible to say. Maybe they’ll torture us.”

“Ha. We’ve spent days in this place without anybody saying or doing jackshit to us. We’re like fucking chickens. They’re fattening us up so they can screw us.” Ellen growled.

John turned to her and smiled. “That’s what you do? Fuck chickens after they’re fat?”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

Timothy shivered. “Never thought I’d die or get fucked like this, man.”

John turned to him. “What? You’ve never had sex before?”

“Nah. I was kinda a loner, even before all this. I only stole those apples because I hadn’t eaten in a few days.”

John patted his back. “Nobody’s faulting you for stealing, kid. Especially not in a time like this. ”

“Maybe that’s important. Who here has had sex before?” Jake spoke up.

John turned to him with an eyebrow raised. “Little off-topic and _personal_ , Jake?”

“No, no, hear me out.” Jake spoke, his hands in a placating position, “If, on the extremely likely chance that we are here for the purpose sex, maybe they captured omegas, like... Well, like _us_ because they were going for people they thought were whores?”

Ellen growled. “Doesn’t mean jackshit if you’re a virgin or a slut. Rape is still rape. It hurts everybody.” Ellen sighed a moment later. “But I get your point. An obvious difference between an omega that’s never even seen a dick versus somebody who at least knows how to deal with the aftereffects. You’re saying that they wanted people who they thought are experienced. So who wants to volunteer first?”

Isaiah raised his hand. John smiled at the familiar polite gesture. 

“I’m married. I have a wife and a baby boy at home. It’s not something I keep very private. I got a lot of shit from work for choosing to continue working while the alpha stayed home to take care of our son.”

Jake coughed. “I… have a partner at the GCPD. I think she might be stuck with the others in the tunnels. But we’re engaged, and we… do it pretty regularly.”

Ellen grinned. “My turn? Oh, boys, I am a _proud_ _sinner_. I’ve lost count, honestly.”

They all looked at John. “What about you?”

John looked down at the ground. “I don’t even know if this even counts, but in college, I had a brief encounter with an alpha before he dragged it out halfway.”

Ellen laughed. “No shit?!”

John laughed too, her amusement infectious. “This guy just slathered on some lube, stretched me, and just as he started pushing in, he pulled out and went who knows where.”

Ellen howled with laughter. She leaned back in the chair.

“Fucking alphas man,” she hummed.

John laid back as well. “Fucking alphas man,” he murmured in agreement.

“Maybe there’s a common theme here, that doesn’t extend to how many of us have had sex,” Isaiah muttered aloud.

John turned to the man. “What do you mean?”

“Well, all of us here are really abnormal. Different from what people think being an omega means. I think that everyone captured here is a person that never fit into the traditional ideas of what being an omega means. That’s the only pattern here.”

Ellen shrugged. “That just means we’re stronger and better than your common priss. No offence to you Timothy.”

The boy held up both hands in mock surrender. “None taken ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

John spent the next few days at the hotel learning as much as he was able.

As soon as his first few hours with the others were up, they slammed open the door and wrestled each of them away from each other. They managed to drag John into the elevator, up five stories, down the hall, where he was pushed into another room.

This one was much bigger than the little conference room he had shared with the others. It was a bedroom, with a huge four poster bed, TV, writing desk, and a bathroom. John tried to break himself out of the room first by using some stray hairpins he found in the bathroom. Unfortunately, whatever locks they were using on that door did not yield. 

John tried all the windows, but they were bolted shut with bars stretching across them. John was trapped.

When they finally unlocked the door to deliver his first meal to him, John tackled the man who had inadvertently opened it far too wide. Unfortunately, he did not account for the fact that the man would be accompanied by a few others.

John received a formal introduction to the man known as Macee, in the form of a beating. He was grabbed by the shoulder and slapped so hard across the face that he tasted blood and his vision spun.

“ _Feisty_ , this one!”

John felt rage bubble up at the mocking tone. He turned around and spat a huge glob of blood and spit, directly at the man’s face. 

That earned him not only a few more slaps but a punch to the stomach as well. John was tossed back into the room with no meal.

As soon as their footsteps were gone, he cleaned himself up in the bathroom, gulping down water to ease the hollow ache in his belly. It had been a long time since he had truly starved, and loathe was John to admit it, but he was terrified of feeling or even remembering those days. 

A few hours later, John heard them outside his room. He readied himself to launch again at his captors. This time, he would take into account that the individual coming into his room may be accompanied by others.

When the door opened, John once again ran directly at the person coming in. He felt hands grip his arm and he was promptly flipped over the individual and landed directly on his back. He crashed into the carpeted floor and gasped as all air was knocked out of him.

He looked up and saw Barsad gripping his arm with a small curved grin on his face.

“ _Bastard_.” John wheezed out. 

He ate his first meal as a captive that day under the supervision of a certain scrawny alpha that made it his sacred duty to snidely remind John every few minutes how bad his escape attempt was.

 

* * *

 

Bane was reviewing some notes that Talia had smuggled to him. It detailed all of Gordon’s planned attempts to sabotage some operation or another set into place by Bane. As well as the location and whereabouts of the many cops that had not been discovered by the man.

There was a certain thrill to be so completely in control of this city. Bane loved it, and he was a little disconcerted at how happy he was to enjoy it. 

Bane heard a light tap at his door. He raised his head and saw Barsad standing in the doorway. He gestured or the man to come in.

“How are preparations going?”

Barsad considered his answer carefully. “The others in the Orchid are adjusting as per usual. There have been no escape attempts on their part since the last example set.”

There was only one person in that group whom Bane had a special interest in. The one person who Talia had spent hours conjuring up plans for.

“And John?”

Bane saw Barsad’s lip twitch. “He’s tried to escape thirteen times this week alone. We’ve stopped beating him this close to the finishing stage, instead, we now withhold meals.”

At least Talia was not incorrect about John being hard headed. They had time to prepare for this after all.

Bane sighed. “Perhaps he needs more incentive to remain cooperative. Talia has requested specifically that John at least act complicit when we send footage of him to Bruce.”

Barsad shrugged. “I don’t believe we’re going to get anywhere through normal methods with John. This is a man who… possesses good potential.”

Bane laughed. “Careful brother! You’re going to compliment someone by mistake if you’re not careful.”

Barsad lets a small rueful grin out.

Bane stopped laughing and looked at Barsad. “In all seriousness Barsad, do you wish to stake a claim on John?”

Barsad shook his head. “No. It is important that they learn to see you as top alpha. That can only be achieved if you take what is yours without giving anything to the others.”

Bane looked at Barsad, his eyes conveying his amusement. “And after that?”

“Then it’ll be my turn. My _very slow_ turn.”

Bane pulled up a chair for Barsad to sit in. “You’ve been thinking on this for a while?”

“He’s a bleeding heart spoiled city orphan with a childish sense of right and wrong and completely horrendous survival skills. These traits should make him weak, but they have oddly enough helped ensure his survival.”

Barsad shifted in his seat. Bane could smell the traces of arousal that were beginning to seep from the man.

“I will not lie, the idea of breaking and breaking in such an omega is… _stimulating_. Causing pain to others through his pleasure and making this independent omega subordinate to his captors. It is likely the alpha within me speaking.”

Bane chuckled. “I will leave some of John untouched for you, brother. You deserve to witness parts of his undoing.”

He stood up and stretched. “Perhaps it’s time I spoke to John soon. All of them. They need to learn respect and humility if nothing else.”

 

* * *

 

“Get in a damn line, you whores!”

John was pushed roughly on the ground, wearing nothing but his tightey-whities. It was the middle of the night, and he had been unexpectedly dragged out of bed, his clothes torn off his body quite roughly, and transferred down into the lobby. 

Ellen, Isaiah, Timothy, and Jake stared at him with wide eyes. They were in their undergarments as well. John bit his lower lip, nearly positive that they were finally going to be raped and killed.

The entrance door opened. John stopped breathing.

Jesus Christ, it was _Bane_.

If Barsad had looked smaller in person, Bane was larger. More indomitable, powerful and frightening. John started quivering, the cold air and his lack of clothing only part of the reason. 

Bane stepped closer, and John swore the ground rumbled like the man was that T-Rex out of that damn Jurassic Park movie. He stopped before the five omegas that were kneeling before him.

“You have been brought here without any instructions on your role within this facility.”

Bane began walking down the line. Slowly. With intent.

“I am sure you have all had suspicions. Well-founded ones. I am here to impart unto you the truth.”

_ Bane’s sounding like those priests I used to listen to at Sunday service. What a douche. _

“You are all here because you represent an aspect of Gotham that needs to be corrected. Someone who has done this glorious city a great disservice. That is why out of the five, three are police.”

John couldn’t resist a cough. He was nudged roughly.

“One of you is a thief.” Timothy shrank back.

“And another one of you is a smuggler.”

John blinked. Ellen? A smuggler? _Holy crap. What kind?_

“That is why this disservice may only be absolved through a special service. You will all take the role of being rewards to the men who deserve it-”

John snarled. “Jesus, shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

Bane turned his eyes toward him. The mask looked like a huge, sharp mouth yawning open. But John was too incensed to be deterred.

“You think you can excuse fucking _raping_ people? Somehow fool, us into thinking that what you’re about to do is justified? This is nothing but another method of you controlling us and your men by _distributing_ us as  _rewards_. If you touch me, I’ll kill you bastard.”

Bane walked over to John and gripped his neck. John choked as he was lifted into the air, his feet began involuntarily kicking. 

“I see no justification necessary for prisoners of war. What I have told you is both a warning and a courtesy.”

John was released. His head slammed unto the hard ground. He lay on the ground coughing, willing air back into his lungs.

“That being said, you bring up an excellent point. Contrary to what you may have been taught, rape is not pleasant in a sexual sense for either party involved. Especially where I origin.”

Bane stepped back and looked at all of them.

“Should you consent to be the bed warmers of any and all men that I approve of, I’ll ensure that your family and associates are fed and safe.”

John laughed sarcastically, baring his teeth, voice still hoarse. “And if we don’t agree to become your personal prostitutes?”

“Then I’ll hand you and your loved ones over to the men from Blackgate who do take pleasure from fucking and killing their bed warmers. You’d best be quiet now, John. Especially with how young some of your loved ones are.”

_ Oh my god. He’s he’s talking about Father Reilly and the kids.  _

“I’ll kill you.” John breathed. Bane looked down at him. His eyes were empty and completely serious.

Bane looked up at the others. “Does anyone else have any protests? Wish to try your luck with others?”

Nobody protested. Even John stared at the ground, defeated.

Bane nodded. “I’m glad we spoke. Tomorrow, I will be visiting two of you. Tonight, you will spend with each other. Be supportive.”

Bane walked away. John simply stared at the ground, teeth gritted.

Even as they were pushed up and forced to walk, John continued to look at the ground.

All five of them were escorted unto the elevator that took them to the top floor. They were left inside a huge bedroom, with two large beds. There was a minibar, plush couch, and more furniture in it than John’s old condo. Normally, this would be a room that John could never even dream of seeing. At the moment, John wished that he was back in his worst foster father’s home. At least being beaten bloody by a belt had some sort of conclusion instead of incoming continuous torture.

Ellen walked over to the couch and sighed heavily. John was reminded of something.

“Ellen, when he said that you were a smuggler, what did he mean?”

Ellen looked up at him. “Definitely not in the sense that I trafficked people, drugs or anything like that. I had connections to the outside. During the first few weeks of the occupation, I had some guys help bring over junk food, alcohol, and all those little non-necessities. I sold them for pretty good prices. That all ended when they found me though. “

John relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah okay.”

Ellen grinned at him. “Not gonna arrest me, officer?”

“Not if you can smuggle me a donut.”

Ellen giggled. Then she placed her face in her hands. John guessed she was either hyperventilating or crying by the way her shoulders shook. 

Everyone in the room sat down. Timothy lay on the plush carpet, twiddling his fingers.

“So uh, what did he mean by saying that he’s _visiting_?”

“Probably that he’s going to fuck two of us. Isn’t that how animals do it? The top dog makes sure that it gets the first bite, and then after he’s done, he lets the others pick away at the meat?” Jake replied.

John groaned. “Don’t say meat. I’m already dehumanized enough.”

Isaiah looked up. “What are you four going to do? I’m staying. I have a wife and child at home. They need whatever help I can give them. And I’ll die before I let those animals from Blackgate touch them.”

Jake groaned. “Maybe I’ll ask them to fish out my fiance. I don’t like the thought of her being stuck down in those dark, damp tunnels with others.”

“I-I have friends too. They need food. I don’t care if they hurt me, but I need to make sure that my friends are alive.” Timothy whispered.

Ellen looked at them with a rueful smile on her lips. Her cheeks were damp. “I don't have anyone. But I don’t like the thought of being tossed into a mob. Bane said that we work as reward systems. I’m guessing that there’s at least a controlled, determinate amount of people that get to fuck me instead of a horde.”

John punched the wall, the loud bang startling the people around him. “And _I_ have to make sure that _an entire orphanage doesn’t get raped and killed!_ ”

Ellen stood up and hugged John. He almost pushed her off before he realized that his vision was blurred with tears. He let her hug him as he sobbed. Then Jake, Timothy and finally Isaiah made their way over to him, holding him as his sobs faded away.

John brushed his nose, wiping away the tears and snot. He felt embarrassed at the sudden outburst. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologize. We’ve all cried here.” Isaiah replied gravely.

“And whatever you do, John, don’t be ashamed,” Ellen told him firmly. “In the times to come, whatever shit they make us do, it’s all for the sake of the people we love and how we stay alive in the shittiest possible fucking situation.”

John nodded. Then he remembered.

“God, Timothy, if he chooses you tomorrow…”

Timothy waved him off. “I’m fine. Like I already told you, whatever they do to me, I can take it. As long as my friends are alive.”

Ellen began to say something and then paused. They all looked at her. 

“Timothy. I-if you’d agree... Do you want one of us to help introduce you to sex? On the chance that Bane chooses you tomorrow, I’m sure that monster doesn't have anything good planned for you. Maybe before that, we could show you that sex isn’t as…” Her voice trailed off.

John felt his face flush with colour. _Damn_. Two omegas together? Normally, it was something that he would laugh off as a dirty joke, but here in this place…

Timothy shook his head. “I’m fine. I already got a pretty good sex ed course, from school and my mom.”

Ellen nodded.

That night, they all slept together on a big bed, despite the fact that there were another bed and couch available, clutching at one another. 

The collective breathing and small shuffles at night reminded John of when he was a kid and living at St. Swithin’s. Sleeping with a warm omega friend after having bad dreams was nice.

John fell asleep and had no bad dreams.

 

* * *

 

The next morning was one of the most humiliating experiences of John’s life. 

They were all rudely awakened through a loud pounding on the door, their only warning before a dozen armed men burst in. 

They were each assigned a few guards to take them to an individual room to “get cleaned”. John struggled, as per usual when they grabbed him, but they seemed to be used to it by now. After that shitshow yesterday, his heart really wasn’t into it.

After they came to a room, John was first ordered to strip naked and shower. Right in front of those damn guards. He refused. Loudly. They told him that he could either do it himself or get washed like a reluctant child. He grudgingly peeled his underwear off. John saw eyes on his chastity cage. He glared at them.

“What?”

One of the others, younger than most of his guards looked up at him; wide-eyed. “You Gotham omegas really wear those? On a daily basis?”

John raised an eyebrow, still angry. “Guess you didn’t pay too much attention in class, did you?” He was still surprised to see the guard shake his head as though in agreement, staring at the cage that John wore. Whatever. Who the hell knew where these guys were from. As far as he knew, maybe it was a place where alphas weren’t allowed to learn about omega bodies.

John was ushered into the shower, curtains open where he scrubbed at himself furiously as he felt eyes trail from his legs to his ass. They gave him shampoo, conditioner, body gel, hell, even a body exfoliator. John didn’t even think he ever exfoliated his body. Everything was non-scented, so John couldn’t even enjoy the nice smells that came after an intensive shower. As soon as he was done, he was told to “bend over, legs apart”. John stared at them in shock.

“I-I thought Bane was supposed to…”

The guard snorted. “We’re cleaning you, princess. All of you. Now bend forward, legs apart. This’ll be over fast if you let it.” John closed his eyes. Jesus, this was actually happening. 

Another man walked in. He went to the sink and placed some water into a pouch. He then screwed on the nozzle to the pouch and turned toward John. He looked far too happy for what was about to transpire.

John saw the man lubricate the head of the douche that he had filled with warm water from a small packet. He received a curt order to: ” _Push back and remember to breath_ ” before John felt something slick and cold enter him. John gasped, his legs twitching.

Then something much too warm enters him and he whimpered.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just take it. Relax your tummy, I know it's hard.”

Not only John’s face, but his ears and chest went red at that. Getting an enema?! Bad. Embarrassing. Getting talking to like he was a pup? John was ready to keel over and die.

He felt a finger lightly trace his twitching hole around the nozzle. John shivered at the feeling as the touch made its way down, grazing over his sensitive taint, and cup his balls. A guard spoke up.

“You shouldn't do that. Bane was clear that-”

“Bane told us that we weren’t allowed to fuck these omegas before he did. I’m just checking the mood and progression of this omega while cleaning him.”

John groaned as the cupping turned into a light squeeze. It made him clench down on the nozzle, and he felt the hand return to that place, gently rubbing at his senstive rim stretched around the nozzle and cooing at him to relax. 

When the man stopped pushing warm water into him, he slipped the nozzle out, and John already felt himself leaking. He barely made his way over to the toilet before everything gushed out.

John heard them talking quietly as he was dripping inadvertently into the toilet.

_ “Shouldn’t we take that thing off his prick? Just looking at it makes me feel filthy.” _

_ “No. Bane was clear that he wanted them with their chastity devices on.” _

_ “These Gothamites are pretty kinky, aren’t they?” _

_ “Not necessarily. Chastity devices are standard medical practices for them, but we associate it with something very different.” _

John lifted himself off the toilet. They returned to him.

One of them lifted up the douche again. John felt his face pale. “Are you kidding me?”

The man grinned. “Takes more than a few pumps to make sure you’re squeaky clean.”

John groaned, resting his head on his arms as he once again stood with his legs spread. 

They flushed him out a total of four times. Each time, with that loathsome man behind him rubbing at his privates, cooing into his ear. The others began to join in as well, the younger guard reaching out and holding John’s caged cock in curiosity. 

“Wow. So it’s made up of soft plastic and has openings for you to wash, but you can’t get hard or touch your dick.” John whimpered at the touch as his nipples were rubbed into stiff peaks by another set of hands. He could already feel his cock stirring at the touch, something that hadn’t occurred for a while. 

The nozzle was yanked out, and John cried out at the sudden exit, unwittingly letting out water pour down his leg. 

The guards stood back, looking at him. John simply placed his face against the shower wall in humiliation, unable to even look at them.

“Water’s coming out clear. I think he’s ready.”

They wrapped John in a robe and took him downstairs, barefoot. He kneeled in the same place they did last time. Gradually, the others trickled in.

Ellen kneeled beside him. “I hope to God that your cleaners were not half as touchy as mine.” She muttered. John laughed. 

“I’m sporting a halfie right now actually,” he joked.

She giggled. “I’m sure my own lil’ stiffy is poking a hole through my belt.”

They both laughed aloud at that. Boisterous enough that their guards glanced at them curiously.

This was so fucked up. Getting molested and then laughing about it? John supposed the alternative was sobbing hysterically. In which case, he’d gladly pretend it was all some big joke.

Isaiah walked in, his face stormy. John saw that his guard had a black eye. He felt a sudden warm surge of pride for the normally soft-spoken man. 

“Hey. How are you, man?”

Isaiah turned around to face John. “They were very rude until I decided that a correction in attitude was in order.”

Ellen groaned. “They didn’t even hit you back? Talk about favouritism.”

“The guard that I struck almost did. They told him that any damages done to me before Bane claimed me would have consequences.”

Of course, that oversized monster wants to see us get hurt. Only by him.

Jake came in next, Timoty shortly after. The cop was red-faced, but Timothy was surprisingly calm. Ellen opened her mouth, probably to ask them what had happened, but then the entrance doors opened again.

Bane walked in, slightly less intimidating in the light, but not by much. 

“You should all be prepared by now. I will pick two of you. The other three will return to the room from yesterday and wait for their turn tomorrow. You will not see each other until tonight.”

Bane paused. And his eye crinkled up in what John now recognized as a smile.

“I am sure that the two I select will be courteous enough to warn the rest of you what to expect.”

Bane walked toward them.

He pointed at Timothy. Then Ellen.

“You two will be first. Come.”

John felt his heart sink as the two were picked up by the scruff of their robes and led after Bane. They didn’t protest or fight anymore. They seemed to be in shock.

Ellen, he was sure that she would be fine. That girl was tough as nails. But Timothy. Jesus.

Please God, let that kid come out at least somewhat okay. Let them both.

John felt a gun prod his back.

“Come on. Let’s go back to the penthouse.”

John was led back to the room he had shared last night, praying under his breath.

Isaiah, Jake and John sat on the floor. It was weird, but John felt much safer being cocooned by the furniture around him as opposed to sitting in plain sight. It was probably a bad sign that he was starting to get so animalistic, but it was comforting enough that he didn’t care. 

Jake spoke up.

“Should we… prepare speeches or something?”

Isaiah and John looked at him.

“I mean. We’re all cops. We know how to give these kinds of talks after… after assaults…”

John fisted the carpet under him hard. 

“We give those speeches to victims. Ellen and Timothy are not victims. They’re… they’re doing this so they can protect themselves and the people they love. And they’re going in blind to warn us ahead of time what to expect. They’re goddamn heroes.”

There wasn’t anything particularly heroic John could think of by fucking somebody. But goddammit, they were alone here, in hell.

After that, they all sat in silence, staring at the ground, ceiling and outside. The daylight outside began fading away, the only indication that time was passing. Every second was somehow the longest and shortest John had ever felt. He was consumed by a need to see them, yet afraid of what his companions would come back looking like. Their empty eyes, and tear streaks.

When John glanced at the clock again, it was already night. Timothy and Ellen had been in the clutches of that monster for longer than five hours. Every moment after that, John was more and more worried about not only the mental health of his friends but also their physical state.

If Bane had a physician that John could see, maybe he would be less concerned. But as it was, he wasn't sure what was worse. Seeing Ellen and Timothy die, or having them stitched back together only to be abused again. 

At eleven twenty-seven at night, they finally heard the door unlock. John and the others immediately jumped up. 

Ellen and Timothy were nudged inside, and the door closed. John ran to them.

The first thing; the very first thing John noticed, was the smell. It nearly made him trip over his own feet. 

Musk, sweat, semen, blood, and lube hit him first, then an overwhelming, familiar sweet smell. Oreos and hot chocolate. He was briefly debilitated before continuing to run to the two.

John reached Ellen. She was wrapped in a blanket, and John reached out to her. He could see that she was naked beneath the sheet. Her eyes were glazed, and on her neck were numerous bites. She smiled at him, dazedly, and when she spoke, her words came out slurred.

“ _Hi, John…_ ”

He grabbed her shoulders gently. “Are you and Timothy al-”

“I’m already here.”

John turned to see Isaiah examining Timothy. The boy only had a towel around his waist. His pale skin made the bruises and the bites stand out only that much more. 

He smelled the same. Same glazed eyes. Oreos and hot chocolate. 

Isaiah gently cupped Timothy’s face. “Are you alright? Are you hurt!”

Timothy fell forward unto Isaiah and nuzzled his face into the man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Isaiah’s waist. And emitted a loud purr.

“ _No, nooo, Imss_ _alzight_ …” Timothy was slurring worse than Ellen.

John picked up Ellen, who giggled. “Come on. Let’s put some cold water on their faces”

They filled up the sink and began wiping their faces with the ice cold towels. They looked like they were beginning to sober up anyway.

But they didn’t talk a lot. They responded to questions though.

“Ellen, are you or Timothy hurt? Bleeding, bruised internally, anything?”

She shook her head. “No, no we’re fine. At least I am. I know when I have rips or injuries during sex, and right now, I’m just sore from overuse.”

John turned to Timothy. “How about you kid?”

The boy shook his head and continued to let Isaiah wipe at his face, cleaning the deeper bites on his neck.

“W-Why do you guys smell like that?” Jake spoke up from behind the two.

Ellen sighed. John then noticed how hoarse her voice was.

“When he took us, we were forced up into the penthouse suite. The one where I think the politicians or big shots in Gotham used to stay? Then he sat us on the bed and started… talking to us.”

John put down the towel. “Talking about what?”

“Stuff,” Timothy muttered, taking the towel from Isaiah and wiping his own body. John winced as he saw the state of Timothy’s chest. Hickies, bite marks and even some scratches. The poor kid’s nipples looked swollen too. 

“Can you be more specific?”

“He just asked us if we knew about how corrupt Gotham and all these cities were. How he… felt bad for us.”

John blinked. That sounded out of character for Bane. He looked back at Ellen.

‘He didn’t say that he felt bad, he just said it like we were limiting ourselves to how fucking amazing the rest of the world was.”

John nodded, relieved that Ellen’s biting sarcasm had returned. “After that?”

“Pills,” Timothy whispered. He laid against Isaiah’s side. The cop did not protest.

Ellen sighed. “Yeah. Made us take tablets that were bright yellow. I thought they were some knockout pills or maybe drugs. Something to make us struggle less and forget about what would happen. I didn’t hesitate.”

John began forming a picture. “But they weren’t drugs were they?”

“No, they were not.”

Jake looked at John and Ellen. “W-what were they?”

Ellen spoke quietly. “Something that triggered an omega’s heat.”

John closed his eyes. _Fuck_.

Timothy spoke up again, his voice shaky. 

“It was worse than a heat. The last time I went into heat, I only rubbed against my mattress and my hole felt hot. What he gave me, made me crazy.”

“I never thought they’d bring in heat stimulators. They’ve been banned from Gotham and most of civilization, but I guess we didn't account for the fact that Bane might have had access to them.”

Ellen chuckled. “It’s not the pills you guys have to worry about. It’s Bane’s stance on chastity devices.”

John felt himself freeze. He recalled a conversation later that day, where he had stood in the shower and heard his guards talking about his cage…

“No way.” John breathed out.

Ellen nodded. “Turns out, where Bane and his men come from, omegas and alphas don’t really have something called chastity devices. Omegas just… do whatever they want. Even act like alphas if they want to.”

Jake sputtered. “That’s insane. That sort of behaviour leads to sexual addiction and hysteria in omegas.”

Ellen continued, as though not hearing Jake. “So as we lay there, in heat, Bane decided to go with me first. He just made Timothy watch, as he ripped off my belt, and…”

She trailed off. Looked to the ground. “Well, it didn’t hurt and that’s all you guys have to know. It was the… God, it was just weird! And it felt good, and I hated it!”

John, Isaiah and Jake stared at her. They didn’t know how to deal with the outburst. 

Timothy spoke up again. “After he was done with Ellen, he put her on the couch. And then he put me on my back, took off the cage and he… he had sex with me. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything like torture.”

Timothy shuddered. “I never knew that my dick could work. I tried telling him, I even begged him not to.”

Timothy slipped away from the others and burrowed under the bed sheets. He lay there, very still.

John turned back to Ellen, her eyes still angry. 

“Is that all he did?”

“No. It was pretty on and off. He had sex with one of us, let the other rest. Then later he fed us some food from his hand and was… all weird about it. He blindfolded us at the end and I’m pretty sure took off his mask.”

John felt disappointment. “You didn’t see his face.”

“For good reason. When he started sucking on my tits, I felt some stuff was off. He couldn’t get that good of a suction. I think he might-he might be disfigured.”

Well, that was some news. John and his friends down at the scant remains of the GCPD had juggled theories of why Bane wore the mask. Most of them believed that he did it to intimidate others or hide his identity. But concealing his face because of something like disfigurement?

It was unexpectedly human of someone that John did not regard as one.

Ellen stared down at the ground. “We spent a lot of time just lying side-by-side. Him just biting and nibbling. In the end, before he went away, he knotted us.”

Isaiah let out a gasp. Jake covered his open mouth with his hand.

“Knotting’s for mated couples,” John repeated from habit.

“Well, as Bane knotted us, he was very clear that he only did it to remind us who we belonged to and who we listen to. You can see from our bitemarks that he claimed us on top of it. I-I think I’m gonna rest now.”

Ellen crawled into bed beside Timothy. “All I have to say to you guys is that it won’t hurt tomorrow. Not in the way you expect it to. And whatever he does to you, he’s already done it to all of us.”

 

* * *

 

John walked downstairs to the lobby like it was his execution the next morning. He had slept wistfully and was completely exhausted.

The cleaning that took place that afternoon was conducted much quicker. He didn’t get molested or humiliated. It was almost clinical.

When Bane arrived in the room, John barely conjured up the energy to feel fear. But he began to feel steadily more awake as he was led to the elevator doors.

Jesus. This was it. He was going to get raped.

The penthouse was minimalistic, and the furniture black and white. The cheerful sun shining outside did nothing to make the scene any less frightening. 

John sat with Jake and Isaiah on the couch that Bane directed. He sat across from them, and John heard the leather chair emit a squeak of protest at the weight it was holding. There was only a coffee table separating them from Bane. It looked comically small compared to the man’s massive frame. 

Bane drummed his fingers. John clutched his knees, willing the jitters away.

“Have you all made a decision?” Bane asked. They all nodded slowly. Bane reached over to the lamp stand beside him and picked up a notepad and pen.

He turned his gaze on Isaiah. “Start naming the people you would like under immunity. And there are exceptions, though I doubt you’d care for them. Except for John of course.”

John stiffened. Why, _why_ the _fuck_ did Bane seem to have it out for _him_ of all people?

Oh yeah. Batman. Bruce. Gordon. Fuck.

Isaiah named his siblings, wife and son. Bane wrote down their names on the notepad. He turned to Jake. The cop shakily mentioned his fiancé, the cop that was stuck underground. Bane informed him that he could fish her out, and keep her on the immunity list.

Bane finally turned to John. He didn’t miss a beat.

“The GCPD, Jim Gordon, his family and all of the occupants of St. Swithin's orphanage including the priest Father Reilly.”

Bane chuckled. “The GCPD is a threat against the city. Jim Gordon is the leader of that threat. His family, also valuable leverage. But I will be sure to put down the orphanage on the list.”

As he finished writing, Bane placed the notepad and pen down on the coffee table. He turned to them again, his eyes darker.

“I assume that your friends told you what had happened yesterday.”

“Yes.” Jake gritted out. Isaiah and John nodded warily.

“Then you know what will happen to you in the coming hours.”

Bane took each of them to a separate room. John’s room consisted of one bed with restraints attached to them. The sheets were plain white and had three pillows. Bane took off John’s robe, and he shivered at the appraising look Bane gave him. 

Bane’s eyes darkened and he turned John around. The scars on his back. 

He felt a hard hand run over them.

“These are old. You would have received them as a child.”

John coughed. “Uh, yeah.”

Bane hummed, still touching them. The scars John had received as a child grew with him. The only difference was that they were not as raised up as they were when he was a kid. But still, he felt embarrassed every time he went to a public pool. 

He didn’t know why he was thinking of swimming pools when his entire asshole virginity was at stake.

But he felt differently about his scars around Bane. Prouder of them. It was sort of a silent testament to the overgrown fuck behind him that John wasn’t this helpless, stupid little omega that Bane probably labelled him as.

Bane reached into his gigantic shearling coat and pulled out a box. He opened it, and within were three brightly coloured yellow pills. John looked at him.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes.”

John reached out and plucked out a pill. Bane handed him a bottle of water from another giant pocket and watched as John swallowed. He reached out, opening up John’s mouth to see if he had actually swallowed it. His finger prodded inside John's mouth, checking the sides of his cheeks and gums.

Bane nodded with approval. He took the water bottle from John and tucked both that and the box away.

Bane left the room, closing the door behind him. John sat on the bed, doing breathing exercises that he had once learned from an anger management seminar. It was fine. He was okay. This was just one person. John just needed to enter a headspace where Bane couldn’t touch him.

He knew he was going to be hurt. Traumatized. But he could handle this. He had lived for so long on his own, he could definitely do this.

There were no clocks in the room or windows. John had a feeling that the room was soundproofed. He could test out the door to see if it was locked or not, but where would he run at this point? There were definitely guards outside the penthouse. 

Time passed. John spent most of them meditating and fantasizing about escape plans. The pill began to kick in around this time.

John shifted, aware that his hole was getting warmer, and his cock was hardening in his cage. John lifted the sheets on the bed and crawled beneath them.

Wow. Had these sheets always felt so soft? They had to be silk or velvet.

John pinched his arm hard. The pain cleared his head. He couldn’t afford to be out of his mind loopy. If the pills stimulated heat than he could at least be in control of his mind if he couldn’t control his body.

Easier said than done. John’s cock began to throb, and when he peered down, he was surprised to see it bulging out around the gaps within his device. It hurt and felt itchy, but oddly good too.

He touched his hole. He was not surprised to feel the slick oozing from his entrance. He wasn’t sweating yet, but he was beginning to feel hot.

He saw the door open. Bane came in, missing his shearling coat. He walked over to John, running his hand over John’s hair.

John shivered. Too much. Too much feeling. The heavy hand that had brushed his head had his hair roots tingling. John felt goosebumps rise up at the back of his neck, and his cock emitted an alarmingly heavy pulse.

Bane drew his hand back. “Not ready yet.”

John stared incredulously after Bane as he left, shutting the door behind him.

Not ready yet? _What the fuck was that?_

John jumped up and yanked on the door handle. Didn’t even budge. So it was locked.

John felt another rush of arousal run through him, and he began to panic. Oh, Jesus. Was he completely stuck in this room with nobody to help him through this fake heat?

John had experienced heats in his life. After periods of great stress, random vacations, or meeting a particularly hot alpha.

But he always had his private bedroom and with his assigned heat aids. Fingers and hands could only do so much!

John lay back on the bed, feeling the cage between his legs give another throb. This was bad. This was very bad.

He had long learned to dissociate from his penis when his heats came, using only his prostate to milk out orgasms he might have. His penis would leak copious amounts of fluid whenever he masturbated, but that was normal. And every time a large gush came out, it made him so…

Oh, God. John really was in heat now, wasn’t he?

_ Well, you’re already in this far. _

John went back to the bed, laying on his stomach. He reached behind him and prodded at his hole. Ugh. It was already so, so slick. He gently pressed his pointer finger against his entrance, and it was just sucked in.

John’s thighs twitched at the sensation. His cock released another lonely throb. Oh, God. If he was this sensitive with just a finger, he was going to get absolutely wrecked by Bane.

John pushed the finger in and out slowly. His hole gripping unto the appendage fiercely, as though John would stop any moment. His insides fluttered, practically pleading for something bigger, slicker, or maybe something made out of plastic that could reach deep inside him and vibrate directly unto his swollen prostate. 

John continued fucking himself with his finger, moving from one to two, to three. He began to hear slick noises, his body getting warmer and warmer, from the pill and the more he fingered himself.

John ducked beneath the sheets as he heard the door open. He peered from beneath the cover as Bane walked in. He could smell the scent that emitted from Bane.

Semen, slick, saliva, and musk.

Oh, God. He must have already had sex with someone. Who? He couldn’t smell Isaiah or Jake. Maybe that's why they were made to shower before coming here. Now those scentless body products made sense.

Bane walked over to John and pulled the sheets away. John quivered, laying in a fetal position. Bane’s eyes caught the wet gleam on John’s behind and thighs.

He purred out a “Good enough” and unbuckled his pants.

John was manhandled unto his stomach, his ass in the air. He tried to struggle once more, just once to prove to himself that he didn’t want this, but he couldn’t. 

He felt Bane position himself behind him, a hard bulge pressing against his ass. Bane shuffled around in his pockets, probably grabbing some condoms. He felt hands fumble around at his balls and he tensed. John prepared himself for the stinging pain that came from intercourse, just like how his teachers and Father Reilly had warned him about alphas.

Instead, his felt a significant weight drop from a very special place. John looked down. 

Oh hell no. Oh, Jesus.

His chastity cage. It was… just on the sheets. Not attached to his dick. Oh no.

John lunged to get away from the pervert behind. Bane’s arms shot out and he gripped John’s hips hard. John heard him chuckle.

“You should have heard how loudly the last one yelled. I can’t wait to hear you squeal, I bet you sound even sweeter than him.”

Bane’s hand encompassed his cock and John lost all coherency.

At first, it hurt. It was too much. John struggled even harder in Bane’s arms, trying to yank himself free. Bane’s hand left him and came back in favour of featherlight touches to his cock. Johns entire body shuddered.

“Oh God, oh God, d _on’t do this, please don’t do this_ …” John moaned. 

He could feel his dick stiffening. For the first time, there was no obstacle to stop it from expanding, to stop the pleasure. His hips thrust forward involuntarily, and he sobbed.

Bane grabbed lube from his pocket and slathered his hand in the slick material. He returned to John, fisting the cock and allowed the lubricant to give his hand a unique gentle sensation upon John’s poor quivering cock.

John buried his head in his arms. There was no way this was happening. He could feel it. The same thing that happened when he put his vibrator on top of his prostate. His cock was leaking and leaking, and he knew he was coming at this moment. Bane was making him cum. Without even touching his prostate. It was mortifying, invasive and.. And…

“ _Oh…_ engh _, please, please I get it, I won’t… stop, stop please…_ ”

But Bane just wouldn’t stop. The lubricant got warmer and hotter, and John began thrusting as hard as he was able into the tightness that Bane’s hand created. He couldn’t control himself. It was as if he was pushing himself to something, a conclusion or some sort of means to an end to this torturous sensation. Because if this was what Bane insisted on doing to him for the next few hours if this was his idea of sex, John was sure he would go insane.

Finally, he shouted, a tingling so intense it felt electric, shoot from his cock to the rest of his body. Something had happened, something spurted out of his cock that evoked a whole body shudder out of John. It crashed in waves over him, his entire body slackening. His cock twitched and the slit of it felt more sensitive than he had ever recalled in his life. 

“Wh-what the hell did you do to me?” John asked, struggling anew to get out of Bane’s arms. He looked down. His cock was softening, but on Bane’s hand, the one he had used to give John a handjob, there was a copious amount of semen. John’s semen.

Bane chuckled. “Congratulations. You had your first orgasm.”

John swallowed. 

Bane examined the cum on his hand. “I was correct. You were significantly sweeter than the other. I will be back.”

Bane exited the room. John shivered in bed. His cock was already hardening again. John fumbled at the chastity device, but the lock was completely busted. On top of that, he was too hard to fit into it again.

Bane was gone to fuck Isaiah or Jake. The thought sprang to his head unwittingly, and to John’s disgust, he felt another pulse of arousal race through him.

Oh, God. Was this what sex with Bane would be? A _perversion_ of everything John had learned about sex, with no love or commitment? For God’s sake, Bane didn’t even fuck him. Was this even sex? Maybe third base?

But he had made John think he was going to. The fear of being brutally torn apart by the man had left out a very specific fact that had been repeatedly clarified by Ellen and Timothy. The fact that Bane didn’t care about common decency or John’s own preconceived notions of sex.

The arousal returned much too soon. John’s “first orgasm” did absolutely nothing for the heat that gathered between his legs. He felt so empty that his insides were repeatedly clenching on nothing.

John buried himself in the sheets, the feeling of being snuggled and touched helping a little.

But not at all. Every time he felt something brush against his cock, he gasped. He tried to finger himself again, but it just wasn’t enough, and the small stimulation simply worsened the ache.

John found himself whimpering into the pillow, wishing that Bane returned, and soon.

John finally, after an immeasurable amount of time, from sheer desperation John gripped his cock. He was completely disgusted by the stiffness, but sudden small bursts of pleasure had John biting down on his lower lip and continuing to stroke himself.

It felt good. Really good for a while. But it wasn’t like the way Bane did it. It didn’t feel as… intense.

Just as John was about to yank maybe faster, the door clicked open again. John tore his hand away from his cock and sat up straight. 

Bane stood in the doorway, a light sheen of sweat on his body. He walked in, purring.

John could smell sex on him, even more, potent than last time. His entrance practically wailed in torment.

_ Everyone else is getting some! Just take it! Take something good for yourself or I’ll go crazy! _

John sat up, the sheets falling away from his body. Bane glanced down at John, seeing his stiff cock and wet inner thighs. John whimpered and reached for Bane.

Bane walked toward him slowly, pushing John unto his back this time. His hands ran over John. The feeling of someone else’s hands on his body made John moan and quiver. He felt another gush, from his cock and his entrance.

Bane looked down. “I’ve kept you waiting long enough, haven’t I?”

John cried out and arched his back as he felt his cock gripped yet again. He fisted the sheets in his hands as he felt Bane’s fingers trace over his swollen wet heat.

“Let’s break you in now, John.”

To John’s embarrassment, there was practically no resistance as Bane’s fingers entered him.  

Bane leaned over and began nuzzled the crook of John’s neck and shoulder. The hard mask rubbed a little rough, but it did not break the skin. John was beginning to feel lightheaded.

Bane scissored John’s entrance and gave a coo of approval at the soft, pliable ring of muscle.

“You’re so open for me. Your eagerness shows.”

John punched at Bane’s shoulder as hard as he could. His efforts were recognized by Bane’s condescending chuckle, and a surprising painful pinch on his left nipple. John yelped.

“Don’t lose your fight now, John.”

Bane took his fingers out. There was an embarrassingly loud squelch as he did so. John whimpered, empty again.

I don’t give a shit anymore. I don't care how hard he fucks me. But if he leaves me empty, I’m going to go insane.

Bane took out his cock. John stared at it and began salivating.

Thank God. If he was feeling empty, not anymore. Not as soon as that beast went inside him.

John reached back and gripped Bane’s cock loosely, needing to make sure what he saw was what he was going to get. Bane simply leaned back. John was surprised at the trust Bane placed in him at this stage. But then he realized just exactly how badly he was leaking and what a spectacle he was making of himself.

John released Bane’s dick and leaned back. Bane slid his cock against John’s, and the omega beneath him shivered at the touch. The comparison alone..! John could see every vein and the deflated knot at the base of Bane’s cock. John thrusted, rubbing his cock against Bane’s more roughly.

“Come on! _Please_!”

Bane pulled back and pushed the tip of his cock within John. John gave a hard shiver. It was too much, it was too big, he was going to tear, but it just isn’t enough he needs more

It was worked gently into him. Bane pushed in, then steadily pulled out as soon as he heard John emit a pained whine or startled mewl. The motions already felt like sex, and John’s entire body was quivering.

But finally, Bane was buried completely within John. He had leaned forward and nuzzled against John’s short hair, purring at the quivering omega beneath him.

John was so full that he could swear that Bane’s cock was poking the back of his throat. He moans were garbled, and his hands fisted the sheets beneath him rhythmically. 

He heard Bane speak lowly in his ear.

“Is it good John? Is it everything you had hoped to feel from a _true alpha_?”

John shook his head, his refusal to comply at this stage more of an instinct than a conscious decision. The dark chuckle that Bane emitted had John whimpering in fear.

“Your rebellious nature is something that I will truly enjoy curbing. You will submit today, and I will spend as much time as I need to ensure that you remember who your alpha is for the rest of your life.”

Bane began moving. John gasped and moaned as he felt that heavyweight within him slowly move out, then in. It was almost unbearable, the sensation of something so hot and heavy against his sensitive rim and internals. Bane’s heavy cock grazed over his swollen prostate with every push, pressing down on what John could easily dub the most sensitive part of himself.

John was unable to even thrash, scream or struggle. His limbs felt weak, and the garbled noises that escaped him almost frightened him with their animalistic qualities.

Regardless, he could still feel himself dripping around Bane’s cock, his cock so hard and swollen between his heads that he felt light-headed. He whimpered loudly to get Bane’s attention.

“ _Too much_.” John gasped.

Bane nuzzled the back of his neck, a strict contrast to the pistoning monster entering and leaving him a complete wreck. “Submit John. I can continue this as long as you need to be reminded.”

John leaned forward closing his eyes. “I _can’t_.”

Bane began moving faster at that. John could feel the knot at the base of Bane’s cock bump against his already stuffed entrance. He could not comprehend how in the world Bane intended for that monster fit inside him, but he knew that it would happen regardless.

“ _Please_ ,” John sobbed. “You’re going to rip me.”

Bane began nuzzling him again. “Quiet John. This hurts because you have not submitted. Give yourself to me John, and I promise that it’ll be alright.”

The comfort was something John had never expected to hear from the terrorist, the masked horror behind him. The cock that pistoned in and out of him had his own dick leaking like a faucet, his rim tingling to the extent where John wasn’t even sure how he had ever managed to remain closed. His eyes were suddenly covered by a large hand, and he heard the removal of something close to his ear.

_ Oh, God. _

“John. Submit to me.” Came the very _human_ , and very warm breath to his ear.

It was the last straw, and John finally felt himself break. He bucked down hard on Bane’s cock and began sobbing.

“ _Please. Please. Please. Please._ ”

He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for. Bane bit the back of his neck, sinking his teeth into John’s flesh. He couldn't even feel the pain, his insides fluttering and quivering at the pleasure that emerged from the heavy torture.

He felt Bane fumbling behind him and he turned to see that the man had already attached the mask to himself again. Bane pulled out of John, wrenching a weak cry from the omega, and sat the man down on his cock again, this time facing Bane.

“Now, John.” Bane purred, exposing the juncture of his neck and shoulder to him. Something that unless Bane, now his alpha, wanted to, John could never reach.

John bit down hard, tasting blood in his mouth. He held on, determined to mark and hurt the man as badly as he knew that he was claimed.

Bane rubbed his back, and John felt a familiar tendril of fury come out from his chest. He began to push himself down on Bane’s cock, determined to make the man feel something, anything, to know that John was not purely the docile little omega that people perceived him to be, even if he had submitted. 

“Little robin, you are so determined to beat your wings and fly, aren't you?”

His name. Bane knew his name. John whimpered as his cock was once again captured in Bane’s grip, and squeezed rhythmically as he was pounded into. He felt lightheaded again. So close to the end. 

John came again, feeling his insides cramp feebly around the cock inside him. As soon as he began, he cried out, the loudest shout, as something hard popped into him. It stung, but it did not tear him open, as promised. Bane snarled.

A torrent of something hot entered him. John weakly whined, his stomach, rim, and internals fluttering weakly at the warm sensation. He could feel the knot pulsing. And after a while, stop. He could feel a heartbeat at the rim of his entrance, unsure if it belonged to him or the man behind him. 

Bane lay back on the bed, John on top of him; their stomachs touching.

John breathed deeply, trying to compensate some of the air that he had lost during his… his…

He felt a bizarre urge to cry. Not from being fucked, but rather that John felt as though he had lost. A few tears slipped out, dripping unto the man beneath him who was also regaining his breath.

Bane looked down.

“Are you hurt?”

John growled, his voice cracking even as he tried to speak steadily. “Why the hell do you care?”

“You are weeping.”

John roughly brushed away his tears. “I’m not crying.”

Bane leaned back in silence. His hands came to rest on top of John’s back, rubbing and tracing something. John realized that Bane was touching his scars. 

“Submission to me is not something to be ashamed or embarrassed about little robin. No one has bested me. And nobody ever will.”

John snorted. Bane shifted, and John gasped as he felt the knot within him move as well.

“I’ve seen that when alphas claim omegas here, it is customary for the alpha to mark the omega. Though not for the omega to mark the alpha. Do you know why I permitted you to do the same?”

John shook his head, exhausted but curious for any information that Bane would offer.

“Where I come from John, there is no prejudice of power between alphas and omegas. There is only the strong and the weak.”

Bane began rubbing his back again. “Today, we have fought. And we have marked each other. But I have won.”

John closed his eyes. Laid his head upon Bane’s chest and heard the steady, strong heartbeat of the alpha beneath him.

“It’s not fair.” John replied quietly.

He surprised Bane enough for the man to emit a sluggish chuckle beneath him. “If you wish to fight again, whether, through sex or our fists, you are permitted. But you must state your intentions of having a domination fight. Otherwise, you will be punished for disobedience.”

John looked up at Bane. “What happens if I win?”

“Whatever you want.”

So there was hope for the future. John laid his head down on Bane again, the warmth too tempting to resist. “What happens now that I submitted to you?”

“The same as any other alpha or omega who has submitted to an opponent. You will follow my commands and possess a need for my approval. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“It’s worse than I thought.”

“Allow me to reiterate. You will still have a mind of your own, albeit you will likely become more dependent on me. Your instincts realize that I have power over you, and will act accordingly to ensure that you remain alive.”

“So… a mixture of Stockholm Syndrome and basic need for survival but intensified?”

“...I suppose.”

There was a moment of pause as John and Bane rested. John spoke up, his voice carrying a slightly tremulous quality.

“I put up a pretty good fight while I could, didn’t I?”

“You were the only one out of the four that I permitted to mark me.”

 

* * *

 

John stayed in the penthouse. He had no idea where the others went, but John only knew for sure that he lived, ate, and slept about two rooms over from where Bane had completely used him. Claimed him. His new room was blue and green, with a chequered yellow and white pattern bedspread. Childish, but his. Even Bane did not enter his room.

He didn’t have much to do, aside from watching the television that was in the bedroom, reading the books in the living room and speaking to the guards that delivered his meals.

Bane came to “visit” John pretty regularly. For an alpha that had recently “ _defeated_ ” or “ _claimed_ ” or “ _whatever-the-fuck-word-Bane-wanted-to-use-to-indicate-that-he-had-top-dogged-John_ ”, he was still pretty much the same shade of annoying to John. Albeit cuddlier. It was embarrassing as hell.

But after that day with Bane, he recognized that a lot of his previous urges to punch Bane in the face had faded away. Not all of it, but a significant amount. John realized pretty quickly that “submission” could easily translate over to “compliance” on his part. He fought the part of himself that recognized the man as his alpha, and another aspect of himself that knew Bane was a psychopath. It was between his own biology or his loyalty to his city. Most days, he balanced the two, obeying Bane’s basic instructions to satisfy the aspect of himself that made him submissive and gathering information to deliver to Gordon as soon as he was able to escape. 

The terrorist was like a damn teddy bear at times. John would be pulled into bed with Bane in the maste suite to lay snuggled against the man’s massive chest as he slept. In the morning, there was either sex or a handjob, both of them ending with John unwittingly spilling himself all over Bane.

He would then shower, consumed by self-hatred, go to the living room, where if Bane was still present, likely to be molested again. He had managed to gasp out a “ _Why_?” at a certain point while being bent over the dinner table. His hands had gone into the scrambled eggs, and he only had a brief moment to register disgust before he was once again penetrated. His groan of pleasure hid Bane's deep chuckle. Thickened by arousal.

“I would never throw away an opportunity to show you how good of an alpha I am,” John heard Bane grunt above him, gripping his hips. “A good alpha pleasures their partner and reminds them why they submitted in the first place.”

John wished Bane spent a little less time _reminding_ him because he was starting to enjoy the sex he had with Bane a little more than a cop turned glorified prostitute should.

The pattern lasted for about a week before John was told that he would be seeing the first man who had earned his “reward”. And as far as John knew, he was about to give that “reward” to someone that had tortured and killed a cop or something.

The day started out normally enough. No sex, a brief shower and cleansing by Bane. He was sent to his room to “rest” and John took the opportunity to dig out a journal he had acquired from the living room, where he wrote down everything he knew about Bane, his men, the location, and potential break-out routes. It was surprisingly time-consuming, and he jumped as he heard a knock on the door. John hid the journal and came out of his room to see Barsad and Bane speaking in the living room. John sighed. The two turned to him.

“Alright,” John spoke, looking wearily at the two. “Who’s the Prince Charming that I have to bend over for?”

Barsad laughed. “You give such genuine compliments to a man such as myself.”

John gaped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the first one?”

Bane chuckled. “Barsad asked specifically for you, John. I asked him if it was because you had some secret talents I did not know about, but he refused to answer.”

The two began laughing again. John was not amused.

“He asked for me? Aw, come on. Barsad hates me. He hated me from the moment he met me in front of that Emergency Relief truck. Look at him. He’s mentally dissecting me right now.”

Barsad did not answer. Bane’s eyes crinkled into a wider smile.

He gestured behind John.

“There are rooms here. Do not take John’s room or the one across from it. You are welcome to enjoy our little bird in leisure today Barsad. Your efforts toward the League are acknowledged.”

Bane turned to John. “Your fight is refreshing and amusing, John. But outright insolence or disobedience will result in the termination of our agreement.”

John swallowed back a retort. God dammit.

Bane walked toward John. he placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Besides,” the man rumbled “You’re my pretty little omega mate, aren’t you? I knotted you and pumped you full of my seed until you passed out. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your alpha now will you?”

John shivered. 

Barsad took off his scarf and his vest. He laid his weapons on the ground beside the couch. John noticed that he had already taken his shoes off.

Barsad walked toward John, lifting an eyebrow. “Shall we?”

John rolled his eyes.

He walked behind Barsad. When John turned back to look at Bane, the man waved goodbye at him mockingly. John resisted yet another urge to snarl.

Figures. It took for him to be kidnapped and made into a sex slave before seeing the more humorous side of the man who had driven Gotham to her knees.

John followed Barsad into a room the man had picked. Its theme seemed to be mahogany red and dark oak furniture. He wondered if either Jake or Isaiah had sex with Bane in this room. 

And it wasn’t supposed to be hot, but goddammit. Ever since he got knotted and fucked this entire week, all associations with Bane and sex had him stiffening. Barsad seemed to notice that John was lost in thought and walked closer. He pinched his cheek in a way that reminded John of something that had transpired a while back, then pulled him in for a deep kiss. It started as a soft, plush leisurely press against his lips, and got deeper with each gasp of air

_ At least he’s got some courtesy. _

John reached around Barsad to hold the man steady and opened his mouth. Immediately, he felt teeth gently nibbling his lower lip and an occasional gentle sweep of the tongue.

John could feel himself becoming hard in his pants already. 

_ Jesus Christ Blake, he’s not even that good, average probably, what’s the matter with you? _

Barsad ground against John, and he moaned into the others man’s mouth. John was addicted. He was a complete sex addict, it was clear now. God help him. 

Barsad pulled back at John’s moan and looked down. He grinned at John and pushed his hips against John again. “You get excited fast.”

“Shut up and fuck me unconscious,” John muttered, leaning forward to lick and suck at the other man’s neck. Barsad chuckled, reaching down to slip off John’s sweatpants. John began to unzip Barsad’s pants, and he found himself pushed back-first unto the bed. 

Compared to Bane, at least John was able to reach certain parts of him that he wanted to.

John moaned as his cock was worked out of his pants. He was already completely hard. Barsad pulled off his shirt too, taking in the sight of John but then staring at his back.

His pause in silence at the sight of John’s back lasted far too long, enough to make John feel awkward.

“ _What_?”

“Scars,” Barsad grunted, as if it answered anything, slipping two hands up his chest to tweak his nipples, while he nibbled the back of John’s neck. John swallowed back his retort in favour of a loud grunt.

Barsad reached down and gripped the base of John’s prick tightly. He groaned, in pleasure and irritation.

“What is with you people and _dicks_? I’m an omega, I’m designed to get fucked, not jerked off like an alpha!”

Barsad hummed and began stroking John’s cock again. It was dry, there was more friction, the feeling more intense than usual. Barsad became speaking, low enough that John barely caught his words.

“Maybe that’s why we enjoy touching your cock so much John. Because you don’t. You Gothamites are masochists. You enjoy denying yourselves what feels good.”

Barsad released his cock and laid John on his back. He grabbed the restraints on the headboard and tied John’s hands together. John was so aroused that he was panting, but he still couldn’t resist shooting Barsad a quip. He had a feeling that this was going to be the highlight of their relationship.

“This is only the first date, big boy. Busting out the BDSM gear already?”

Barsad did not dignify John with an answer. Instead, as soon as John’s arms were secure, he reached down and swallowed John’s entire cock in one swallow.

John yelped, trying to pull away. The headboard creaked ominously, but the restraints did not yield. Barsad pulled himself off John’s cock, smiling at the expression of surprise and anger on his face.

“Oh, I apologize. Was that too much for you?”

Barsad bent down again, and instead of swallowing the entirety of John’s cock, he began licking the slit and the glans on top.

John moaned, back arching, whimpering at the sensation.

This was different than anything Bane had done with him.

“Y-you’re both fucking _perverts_. I’m going to k-k-kick the shit out of - _ah_!”

Barsad had given the tip of John’s cock a hard suck. He felt his toes curl, and his thighs began to knock together. Barsad growled at the limbs wrapping around his head and pushed John's things apart. He sucked deeper, saliva drooling down John's cock. John threw his head back on the soft pillows and moaned.

It took awhile, comprised of Barsad gently running his tongue over the tip of John’s cock and down the length, slowly desensitizing John to the sensation of someone sucking his dick. He seemed to realize as quickly as John did that when the omega started bucking, he was near to his orgasm. So as soon as John began thrusting his cock forward, Barsad leaned back, trading his mouth in favour of squeezing the base of John’s cock rhythmically. 

By the third time this happened, John was tugging on his restraints, every moan he emitted was followed by a growl.

“ _Barsad, you fucking tease-_!”

John yelped as he felt a finger flick the tip of his cock, the most sensitive part of himself.

“You may cum. As soon as you learn to respect.”

John shivered. The desire to cum, to feel what Bane had been slowly imparting unto him these past few days, was insane. John felt as though there was nothing else that mattered, the entire world boiled down to the throbbing between his legs and his oozing ass.

“P-please.” John spat out.

“You’re getting warmer.” Barsad leaned down and swallowed the entirety of John’s cock once again. John gripped the restraints hard, nails digging into his own palm. 

“Barsad, please l-let me cum.” His voice was getting softer. John was feeling lightheaded at this point. 

Barsad popped his mouth off of John’s wet cock for a brief moment. “Very close now.”

John was close to tears. “What the hell do you want me to say?”

Barsad grinned at him, still stroking his cock with maddening light touches. “I want to hear you submit to me.” His mouth returned. John summoned the last bit of his coherency, recalling a line that Bane had made him recite as he was made to ride the alpha’s knot.

“ _Please alpha, please make me cum. I can’t handle it anymore, please, please._ ”

It was evidently the correct thing to say. Barsad continued sucking even though John was sure that he would pull off and continue tormenting him. John thrust at the back of the mercenaries throat, and Barsad hummed around him.

John came hard, his vision whiting out for a full few seconds. He barely recognized the noises that came out of his throat, choked sounds of gratitude, pleasure and sobs. Through it all, Barsad did not stop, serenely sucking and humming around the twitching cock in his mouth.

When John was finished, Barsad pulled off his dick. He walked over to the dresser table and drank the water there. He turned to John.

“I didn’t even have to swallow. You just rammed your cock down my throat and made me eat your cum.”

John shivered. “I’m sorry.”

Barsad grinned. “Don’t be. I always give what I receive.”

John felt hands untie his restraints. Barsad flipped him over on his hands and knees. He felt Barsad spoon him for a while, humming in contentment and occasionally nibble his ear.

“It’s old-fashioned of me,” Barsad began talking while tweaking John’s nipples beneath him. “But the thought of being the first to suck your cock and draw that orgasm out of you is very exciting.”

John shivered, the deft hands on his chest moving toward his still sensitive dick. “Pl-please don’t… I’ve just finished....”

Barsad chuckled. “That’s not what I was focused on.”

John felt one hand rub his stomach while the other breached him. John closed his eyes and tried to recover as that slim digit moved in and out of his slick entrance, opening him up.

Barsad moved down and swiped his tongue over John’s entrance. John laughed, his voice still distorted by the insane amount of arousal that ran throughout him.

“You have an oral fixation don’t you?”

Barsad hummed. “I’m simply interested in eating every part of you. Bane introduced you to the pleasures of the uninhibited body. I will be the one to show you what happens in sex when your partner is meticulous.” 

John moaned as he felt a slick tongue pierce him. So different from a finger or toys. It was so, so soft. Softer than Barsad’s mouth on his cock. Simultaneously too much for his frame, but too little. His toes curled into the sheets, and John felt noises rise out of him that he wasn’t even aware of himself producing.

John reached back and gently pushed at Barsad. The mercenary lifted his head and looked at John inquiry. John spread his legs and used his left hand to pull at his cheek, exposing his wet entrance to the light.

Barsad’s eyes immediately darkened.

“ _Please_ Barsad,” John whimpered quietly. “ _Please_ fuck me, I’m so _empty_.”

If anyone asked, then _yes_ , this was _absolutely_  a part of John’s amazing plan for the man to stop using that ~~fucking amazing~~ mouth of his on John’s unsuspecting body. Or maybe it was the fact that since Bane was his alpha and had given him an order to have amazingly hot sex with Barsad, John was simply _following orders that his biology did not permit him to deny_. But the truth was that John really wanted to be fucked.

_Desperately_ wanted to be fucked. 

John emitted a startled cry as he felt two fingers enter him, stretching him roughly. He later groaned as those fingers pumped in and out of him, startling his prostate and stretching his rim. 

He felt a mouth latch onto his collarbone and began biting roughly. Between Barsad’s own pants and rough grinds on his leg, all John could think about how in the world his cock was going to handle another orgasm. Still so, so, sensitive.

In practically no time at all, Barsad positioned his cock at John’s entrance and pushed in, the two of them groaning simultaneously.

Barsad was not like Bane. In the slightest. Bane had to push and pull back in order for John’s body to accommodate the alpha’s massive length. Barsad slid into John as smooth as butter, lighting him up from the inside. 

It was fucking perfect. He stopped short at the knot and laughed at John’s small confused mewl.

“Not that fast yet.”

Barsad drew out his cock and pushed back in, a perfect mix of heat, friction and slick. John shuddered beneath him, whimpering as he tried to grind against Barsad.

“Little _minx_ ,” Barsad panted, the last vestiges of his patience snapping away. 

He quickened his pace, aiming for a spot that he knew would make John howl. He grinned to himself savagely as he heard John squeal beneath him as an extra hard thrust brushed against the omega’s prostate. He focused his efforts on grinding the tip of his cock against the spot every time he thrust in.

John lay beneath him, his loud cries dissolving into higher pitched whimpers. Barsad saw that the omega’s hand began to creep between his legs.

“None of that.” 

John cried out in surprise as his hand was slapped away, and fisted the sheets beneath him harder as he felt an entirely much too calloused hand wrap around his red, sensitive cock.

“Barsad..! Please! N- _Nuh_ , not too rough ple- _please_!”

His pleas were ignored. Not only did the hand began roughly stroking his cock, but Barsad also thumbed the slit.

John buried his face into the sheets and screamed, his body rocking with Barsad’s thrusts.

The alpha behind him began purring. Barsad immersed himself in the sensation, the pleasurable encompassing heat of the pliant omega around him a treat he had missed. It had been far too long that he had indulged in a city omega. One that took whatever he gave with no violence, threats, or power schemes. It was only him, John, sex and pleasure.

Barsad felt his orgasm approached and with one hard thrust, he fully buried himself in John, the tight rim of the omega swallowing his knot with a slick _pop_. John’s entire body shuddered as he came in Barsad’s hand, crying out faintly.

As Barsad weakly snapped his hips forward a few times, prolonging his orgasm, he eventually just opted to lay against John, his arms winding around John’s stomach and by appearances, seemed to be asleep. John relaxed his entire upper body, snuggling into the pillows, letting his eyes drift close.

It had been pretty intense, to say the least. And now the knot inside him was pushing John to be as submissive as possible, giving control over to the alpha above him.

He felt Barsad lick a long strip up his neck, eventually settling on gently nibbling an ear. His hands, thank God, were just rubbing soothingly over his stomach and hip.

“You were good.”

John felt an odd burst of pride at the sound of Barsad slurring his words. The man’s normally level tone was completely gone in favour of snuggling John in bed.

He gave a small gasp as he felt Barsad purposely shift his knot, brushing his cock against John’s already so sensitive prostate.

John bit his lower lip as he heard the man above him give a sleepy laugh.

He felt his eyes droop, the heavyweight inside him, and warmness of another cradled so close to him lulling him to sleep.

John felt aware of his surroundings, but still so tired. Barsad’s hands ran over his frame, but not with purpose. He was aware of those hands gently brushing over him and squeezing sore muscles, not for the purpose of arousing him.

Barsad’s knot eventually softened enough to pull out of John’s ass, and the omega beneath him emitted a gasp as the knot popped out, and a sudden flow of semen ran down John’s leg.

He shivered. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. The sensation of something hot running down his inner thigh and eventually turning cold. _Urgh_.

Barsad picked himself out of bed and began dressing. John picked himself up, already feeling the soreness to come. He lay on his back, trying his best to ignore the fact that he could feel his rim tingling.

Barsad pulled up his pants and began moving toward the door. He paused and turned back to John.

That was about all the warning John received before he felt a mouth press down on him, the sudden kiss startling a noise out of him. Barsad grinned down at John.

“You were a good lay.” He hummed.

He turned around and walked out the door.

Looks like Barsad was not a cuddler. John shut his eyes and resisted the urge to call Barsad back for another round.

Sleep, real _pass-the-hell-out_ sleep, sounded amazing about now...

 

* * *

 

Bane had been in the living room, watching the news and knitting. The rooms were completely soundproof, but the silence only made the idea of his second in command and omega slave fornicating even more exciting. Like a secret that only Bane was aware of within the apartment.

He heard the door open and close and saw Barsad made a beeline toward the bar in the kitchen, tear open a bottle and begin chugging water. Bane chuckled, shutting off the television.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

Barsad took his lips off the bottle to quickly interject a few words before returning to drinking. “Better than I imagined. I can almost see the appeal.”

Bane returned to his knitting. “I forgot that you grew up in a world even more conservative than Gotham. I suppose your preference runs toward the less subservient, like John.”

Barsad leaned back, sipping water more slowly.

“His body submits, but only to the extent that he does not get punished for outright defiance. Had I attempted to claim him outside of a controlled environment, I am sure he would put up a good fight.”

Bane chuckled again. “You can ask him to fight. When I give him to anyone who deserves a treat, you’re permitted to ask him to perform your requests.”

Barsad looked at him. “ _Anything_?”

Bane hummed. “Perhaps not life-threatening harm. But anything that contributes to breaking John’s sense of independence and security is welcome.”

Barsad sighed. “It’s a shame. He would have made a good addition in the League. He has enough fight and anger.”

“That’s what Ra’s saw in Bruce, and that’s what Bruce saw in John.”

Bane put down his knitting threads.

“But enough about that. Well? You said that he was good. As far as I know, I was the first to claim him. How did his performance vary?”

Barsad gripped the plastic tightly in his hand. 

“He’s very sensitive about his cock. But also manipulative in bed. He has a tendency to whimper and sniffle, doesn’t he?”

Bane nodded his head. “John also flushes quite easily, have you noticed? It’s because the social customs here don’t normalize pleasuring their omegas. He's quite unprepared for our ways of having intercourse.”

Barsad groaned, turning his head toward the bedroom he had left John in.

“Anybody who tastes him is going to come back for a second bite.”

Bane laughed. “Let them. It will contribute to his corruption. Mentally and physically.”

Barsad turned his head to Bane. “Have you began to form an attachment with John?”

Bane considered the question seriously. It was not uncommon for alphas to form a mating bond with omegas they had sex with. And right now, John saw Bane as his primary alpha, something little… intimate.

“No.” he spoke carefully. “At least not now. My interests are primarily to see John become totally dependent on us for his safety and health. Talia wants this one to live long enough to hurt Bruce.”

Barsad shifted the water around at the bottom of the glass. “I wonder how much it takes to break that man.”

“More than we know. Leave such things to Talia. She is good at these kinds of games.”

Barsad turned toward Bane. “Speaking of Talia, will she involve herself with this… grooming?”

Bane laid back, closing his eyes. “She was in fact very adamant that she would like to witness and even participate in John’s undoing.”

Barsad paused at that.

Bane looked toward John’s room. “It makes me uneasy that John could pull the three of us together, as well as any others that seek to have him. Even as a whore, these kind of events that shape themselves around one individual is concerning.”

Barsad grinned at Bane. “Being good at sex draws everyone together.”

Bane laughed again. “If John is to be interacting with Talia, I want him free of another’s habits or influence. He will go to her as clean as he is able but submissive.”

Barsad raised an eyebrow. “So I suppose that makes him a more exclusive whore than the others if he is to be interacting with Talia.”

Bane picked up his knitting material. “Don't read into it too much Barsad. We now have an omega dedicated primarily to us for the purpose of our pleasure. Completely new to a world he was never supposed to be exposed to.”

Barsad huffed, shifting in place. “When you put it like _that_ …"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic ends next chapter. I'm planning on adding some extras that didn't make the cut in this chapter and maybe even a conclusion. It includes a lot of the other omegas and John with other members of the League. If you have any specific requests, comment them below.

**Author's Note:**

> Omegas raised in primarily urban areas of the world have been educated that alphas are superior to omegas. Betas are not as important as alphas, however, they still have a higher status than omegas. Heat suppressants for omegas are forbidden and are reserved for alphas/betas. 
> 
> The ideal omega strives to remain virgins, only to eventually get married/bonded/mated and please their designated alpha through penetration alone. Betas are permitted to only marry/ fornicate with other betas. Polyamory and any other sexual activities that take place outside of the bedroom with more than a single alpha and their mated omega (or a single beta and their married beta) are strictly forbidden. External stimulation, related to the omega penis/clitoris, are forbidden for the fear of sexual addiction and the fact that omega pleasure does not relate to bearing children. 
> 
> This law does not apply to betas. These laws and social boundaries came to pass largely because of organized religion/current government, with their crusade of evolving decency from the previous “uncivilized, barbaric, primitive” manner of living. The real agenda is that with one superior role over another, it’s easier to control a region and their mindset. 
> 
> Meanwhile, in rural areas of the world (where Bane/the League live) the dynamics between omegas and alphas operate very differently. Omegas are arguably superior, having discovered and utilized heat suppressants earlier than their alpha counterparts. (A fact that religious/anti-omega groups are quick to dismiss) 
> 
> Because of the omega ability to carry children, their value and status are further elevated. Omegas first utilized clear rational thought to curb the alpha populace and aggression through sex and teamwork. Because of the alpha instinct to fight and claim for themselves, it is harder for alphas to cooperate, whereas the omegas (who have comparatively little to fight over) work together to control the alpha populace and make sure there is societal peace. 
> 
> There is rarely marriage, polyamory between omegas and alphas are very common, as well as omega/omega, beta/beta or alpha/alpha couples being commonplace. Omegas are freely permitted to pleasure themselves externally, and even perform penetrative sex on an alpha/beta. To any omegas/betas/alphas outside of their social structure, alphas may do anything they wish to them; seeing as there is no risk or chance of being ostracized by their own personal tight-knit omega society. 
> 
> TL;DR: Gotham is trapped in a weird Victorian!Religious!Freudian!cultural nightmare that somehow still functions, whereas anyone living away from urban/traditionally religious areas uses the Animal Society mindset, with more violent war tactics.


End file.
